Revenge
by Amanda Tracy
Summary: Jeff's ex- friend and earliest business partner is out of jail and seeks revenge. Some characters not a part of the TB canon, and taken out of show's continuity.
1. A Sunny Day in Orlando

Revenge by Amanda Tracy  
  
Disclaimer: All Thunderbird characters are the property of ITC and licensed by Carlton International Inc.; all rights reserved. This work of fiction is unauthorized and solely for non-profit entertainment. Please do not republish this work without notice to and permission from the author.  
  
The sun shone on that annoying Friday morning in a sparkling brilliant sort of way as if to say that yes, Amanda Erickson, you have to work while the entire staff at Tracy International got the day off. I, the sun said, have a whole building of people to think of. They're all hoping that I will be warm and shining today on their three day weekend that Mr. Jefferson Tracy, God bless him, was so nice to give everyone today.  
This is Orlando, Florida, after all. The sun is suppose to be shining.  
The traffic signal seemed to be taking its sweet time to change from red to green as Amanda sat in her slightly used, police blue caprice. She dropped her vanity mirror down from the sunvisor so she could tuck an errant curl back in the carefully formed golden halo of hair on the top of her head.  
As the light turned to green, a white and purple-striped Triumph Spitfire shot past her.  
Hmph, she thought! And I've got a corvette in disguise. Please, take one look behind you. You're going so fast, you couldn't tell if I was the real thing or not. That'll get you to hit your brakes!  
The Spitfire roared on ahead making no moves to slow down.  
"Oh well," she sighed.  
After a two sailboats, and a few more city blocks passed by, Amanda guided the car into the security blocked entrance of Tracy International Communications Building. This was the main hub for Jeff Tracy's multibillionaire business interests.  
Amanda was one of many data entry technicians working for him, and the only one dumb enough to agree to come in on a company wide holiday. There was a big honkin' book of codes she intended on finishing by the end of the day. Even if it meant staying until 8pm-doggone it!  
She took off her coded entry pass that hung around her neck and slipped it into the card reader. The barrier gave her its humble mechanized permission to pass, and she rolled her car into the massive parking lot. Today, there wouldn't be a problem with finding a parking space.  
As she drove up to an empty spot in front of the Spitfire that passed her by earlier, she counted 12 cars total.  
Some she recognized. Some she didn't.  
She got out of the Caprice and adjusted her sunglasses. On the other side of her, sat Chris Gruber's navy blue Monte Carlo.  
Sounds like they called Chris in as well, she thought to herself. That girl worked way too hard, and thought way too much.  
George Sanders, the chief of security, was here as she looked at the black half ton Chevy truck in the next row.  
As Amanda walked up to the sidewalk that curved around the stark white and big windowed building, she noticed a shiny black Camaro with tinted windows parked next to the sidewalk in front of the building.  
"I wonder what he's trying to hide." she said to herself.  
She walked passed the Camaro, up the stairway, across the barbled landing, and reached to open the door.  
Wham!  
The door popped opened and caught her right side. Without apology, a man in black slacks, polo shirt, and sunglasses shoved past her and hurried down the steps to the Camaro. He aimed his key ring at the car and it roared to life.  
Amanda rubbed her arm where a large buise was already forming.  
She walked into the building and rossed the lobby entrance where a security guard stood at the desk with his hand outstretched.  
"Hi George," she said as she handed him her ID.  
"Hi Amanda. No rest for the weary, eh?" he said in a yooperish sort of way. "Chris is up there, too. I thought Mr. Almighty himself gave everyone leave today?"  
"Well, if some of us took the day off, we'd have such a back log of work, we'd never catch up." Amanda sighed, "Well, I'd better get up there."  
As she pushed the button on the elevator, George spoke to her warningly, "Oh, by the way, the old man sent two of his sons here to check the place out."  
"Oh great! There goes the neighborhood. Who is it this time?"  
"John and Gordon Tracy," he answered as the elevator made its way down into the lobby, "Better be careful, Mandy. They're so good looking, they'll sweep you off your feet."  
Amanda blushed pleasantly.  
"George, I never trust a good lookin' man!"  
George winked at her.  
"You trust me, don't you?"  
"Of course not!" she grinned.  
George laughed and then became serious once more.  
"Amanda, Dave's here, too."  
Amanda's face became as serious as George's.  
"Do you know where he is?"  
"No, 'fraid not."  
Amanda gave him a reassuring smile.  
"Okay, thanks for the warning. I wonder how he got back into the company so soon after his comeuppance?"  
George could only shrug.  
The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside. As she touched the 10th floor on the touch pad next to the doors, she frowned worriedly.  
As the elevator car shot her upwards she sighed. Just with that bit of news, her senses were already on guard.  
How in the world did that guy get let back in?! 


	2. Don't Blame Me For This!

On the tenth floor, Amanda got off the elevator and walked towards the computer room. She stopped long enough to check out who was in the room, and then walked in.  
"Chris, is that you?" she called.  
"Who else were you expecting?"  
The room was broken into five rows of cubicles with cubicle row C in the middle closest to the door. Rows A and B were off to her right. D and E were to Amanda's left. Amanda's table was in Row B.  
Chris sat in Row A in the last cubicle where she had a window seat.  
Chris Gruber was a Pennsylvanian native with shoulder length dark brown hair, large brown eyes and she was constantly sought after for dates to the point where Amanda was slightly envious.  
She was one of the top programmers in the company and had been with Tracy International much longer than Amanda. She'd earned her place by the window that looked outside.  
Amanda set her purse down on her desk, next to a big black binder, and then walked over to find Chris staring at her screen with a tight mouthed frown.  
"Amanda, where did you get that book of codes from?"  
As Amanda leaned on the wall next to Chris's desk, she thought a moment before answering.  
"I didn't get it anywhere. The book was sitting in my in-box when I walked in last Monday. I just assumed that Mr. Murphy dropped it off to me when he saw the boss."  
"You're sure?"  
"I didn't see him put it there," she answered with a shrug, "It was just waiting for me. Why?" On Chris's flat screen, Amanda saw strings of codes slowly scrolling up into the top of the screen.  
"Chris," she sighed, "is this anything like the time you asked me to check up on some information that ended up having us just barely avoiding being killed when we discovered Fred Hendricks was trying to sabotage the last Sunprobe rocket?"  
Chris heard the whine in Amanda's voice and shrugged with a grin.  
"Hey, don't blame me Miss Merple, it was your fault."  
Chris let that sink in and sat back to watch the fireworks.  
"Now wait a minute...."  
"Don't you remember reading to me the full article...and I repeat....the full article on that last International Rescue case before the Hendricks case came along? Oh how you wished so badly to have something important like that to do...."  
Amanda's high cheekbones became predictably red.  
"Okay, alright. I don't want to hear it."  
Chris laughed as Amanda looked to rub a headache away.  
"Wouldn't it be great to do the work they did? How meaningful it would make life seem....."  
"I didn't say all that!" Amanda retorted, "And by the way, I wouldn't have gone checking out that information if you -oh, partner in crime investigation, hadn't sent it to me."  
Chris laughed as she turned back to her screen.  
"So what's up?" Amanda asked.  
Chris frowned again.  
"I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right about the codes you put in."  
"They're correct, aren't they? I double checked those every so often. Trying to correct them after they've gone into the framework of the system is an absolute bear!"  
"You're accuracy is impeccable. That's why you're doing so much of it. No, there's something not right about the pattern of the codes." she tried to explain, "Like, it's the right codes, but changed somehow...."  
The faraway look was coming back into Chris' eyes and Amanda straightened up. It was best to leave her alone when that brain was searching for an answer to a problem. Chris wouldn't know what time it was nor what day it was until she found her solution.  
"Well, I'm going to stop down on !st floor for an iced coffee. Want me to pick you up something?"  
"How about the usual with a cup of ice?"  
Amanda tittered.  
"Mineral water on the rocks. Coming right up."  
"Don't get lost again." Amanda turned around to look at Chris who conveniently turned back around and faced her screen.  
"That was just the one time!" Amanda yelped, and then remembered George's message, "By the way, did you hear David is back?"  
Chris shook her head as she answered, "I heard,"  
"And did you hear that our fearless leader has sent two of his sons to mosey around the place?"  
Amanda laughed. That had been an experience. Scott Tracy and his brother, Alan, had thoroughly stirred up trouble when they came to 'visit'.  
"That's all we need!" Chris continued, "Maybe I'll jam the door after you get back. No, wait. After you get back and order a pizza! Then we'll lock them out."  
"Oh come on, now. The right guy came along? You'd lock me out and yourselves in!"  
Chris turned and yelped, "Shoo! Scram! Out!"  
Amanda laughed as she walked back out the room again and back to the elevator once more. 


	3. Guess Who's Coming to Visit?

As the elevator dropped Amanda down towards the ground floor, she heard a clatter of noise and looked down. Her communications badge had fallen on the floor. As she reached for the the blank metal card, it breeped twice. Chris's voice could be heard from its little speaker.  
"Hey Amanda. While you're down there, would you pick up my mail for me?"  
Pinning the badge back on her jacket, she answered, "Certainly. Give me a few minutes."  
"Will do." Chris said, "And hey. No picking up strange men down there."  
"Chris!"  
To her horror, the doors of the elevator opened just then. Two young men were standing there waiting for their turn to get in. The taller of the two had wavy blonde hair and intense blue eyes. His tag read John Tracy. The other was a copper colored red head who winked at her as she got off. His tag read Gordon Tracy.  
As the doors closed in front of them, John logged in his mind the reddened cheeks he saw on Amanda's face, and couldn't fathom what had caused it.  
"Gordon, behave, will ya'?"  
"What, and ruin a perfectly good reputation as a ladies' man?"  
John punched the number 10 on the control panel. The elevator shifted gears, and smoothly pushed them upwards.  
"Ladies' man, huh? You're dreamin', dude."  
Gordon reached for his pants pocket and pulled out a tiny worn-out leather booklet.  
"Okay. Let's do this. Get out your little black book and we'll compare names. Guy with the longest list is allowed to call himself a ladies' man. Deal?"  
John grinned at him.  
"Deal, but with one condition."  
"What's that?"  
"You can't include any numbers that are no longer in service, married, or other."  
Gordon gave him a dirty look and slipped the booklet back in his pocket.  
A moment later, they were deposited in the middle of the hallway.  
"Tenth floor. Everybody out." said John.  
They looked up and down the floor.  
"Is this the right floor?" Gordon asked.  
Their voices echoed in the empty hall. The room furthest down the hall had its light on, and so did the computer room with the picture windows that laid on their right.  
"Pretty sure," answered John, "According to George downstairs, there are a few workers that did have to come in."  
"You're kidding. That's hard to believe. Dad gave a company-wide day off."  
John directed them down to the end of the hallway first.  
As they walked, Gordon asked, "What exactly are we doing here, anyway? We're not doing surveillance, are we?"  
"It was Father's idea to find out who the employees were who were called in to work and reward them in some way."  
"Because they're dedicated?"  
"Exactly. He plans on giving them raises or bonuses of some sort. After that, he's going to insist that their managers make all their workers take the day off."  
Gordon laughed. Father could be one tough taskmaster, but he never gorgot the common laborer, and more than appreciated them.  
"And that's why Father's businesses have one of the lowest turnover rates in the world." John continued.  
"So why did Father have you do this? I figured this would have been Scott's detail. You know, the first born son duties."  
John shrugged and rolled his eyes.  
"He said I needed to get a little sunshine."  
Gordon bent over laughing at John's bemused expression.  
John looked at him and nudged his younger brother's arm.  
"So why did you agree to come with me?"  
"Because I just had to get off the island! I can only be in one place for so long before I go cross-eyed,"  
Nah. You wanted to get free of Father and Scott for awhile."  
Gordon shot him a dirty look. "Who asked you?" 


	4. Space Observatory 3

In the room at the end of the hallway, a man with short brown hair sat typing furiously at the keyboard while an image of a satellite turned quickly on its axis. Dave Smith stopped typing for a minute. He rubbed his shaggy mustache nervously as he studied his work.  
Below the picture of the satellite was the name Space Observatory III, and the word inoperative blinked in bright red letters.  
To Dave's right sat a notebook with a faded blue cover and filled with yellowed pages with line after line of computer code. He turned to the last sheet of the book and stabbed at the keys again.  
"One last page to go. Just one more page." he muttered to himself, "Almost finished."  
After this was done, he could take the $5 million Terry had promised him, and pay a whole lot of outstanding, way overdue debt.  
From the pocket of his suit coat came a beep-beep-beep. Dave growled at the interruption and intended on ignoring it, when he checked to see who the caller was.  
On the screen he read the name Terry Johnson.  
Dave popped the screen up.  
"Yeah, what do you want?!" Dave sighed.  
" Have you finished yet?"  
"I'm on the last page of codes in the book!" he hissed, "Where's that courier friend of yours?! As soon as I've got this last bit entered, the satellite will be operational."  
  
"He was there this morning! The codes have to be there in the mail room!"  
"That was the first place I looked and it wasn't there,"  
"It has to be there!" Terry insisted over the phone.  
"Well, its not!"  
"Go back down and look again!"  
There was a knock on the door.  
Wide-eyed, Dave snapped off the little cell phone, snapped off the monitor, and flipped the code book over.  
"Come in!"  
The door opened and John walked in with Gordon right behind him.  
"Hi!" they both said.  
John walked up to him and introduced himself.  
"I'm John Tracy. This is my brother, Gordon."  
"Old man's sons, huh?" Dave said trying to be cheerful.  
"Afraid so," John joked.  
That had them both laughing for a minute.  
"I'm Andy Smith," he said, and stuck out his hand for John to shake.  
Dave forced himself to relax and looked at the two of them. The red head named Gordon was looking about.  
"All by yourself, huh?" Gordon remarked.  
"Yeah. The girls are working in the other room, and I didn't want to disturb them with all of my racket." he shrugged, "So what brings you out this way?"  
"Snooping," Gordon quipped.  
"Ignore him," John explained, "Dad heard about the fact that some people were asked to stay over today even though he gave everybody the day off."  
"So that's why...." Dave let his words trail off.  
"He wanted to find out who was here, and thank everyone."  
Dave's eyes narrowed a little at that.  
"You don't say? Well, that's awful nice of him, isn't it? Tell you the truth, I don't want any reward. I'd be thrilled if you didn't tell him I was here. I'm not going to be long, anyway."  
Dave took his jacket off.  
"I was just going down to the mailroom, finish up one more page of codes, and then off to the bar. Care to join me?"  
"Thank you for the offer, but we've still got a few more people to check on before we're finished."  
Dave smiled big at them.  
"Well, I'll be pushing off then. I'll see you two later. Tell your old man hello for me."  
"We will," John assured him as they all stepped out of the room.  
Dave walked with them past the maintenance room, and reached the elevator John and Gordon had vacated a few minutes earlier. He nodded to them and hurried inside. A moment later, John watched the numerals light up as the car took Dave downwards.  
"Did you notice anything weird about that guy?" asked John, thoughtfully as they continued to walk towards the other end of the hallway.  
Gordon shrugged.  
"Seemed a little nervous to me, but that's normal,"  
The next stop on their trip was the main terminal room with its rows of cubicles and cookie cutter computers. They stopped by the picture window to find Chris stretching and getting up out of her seat.  
Gordon grinned.  
"Hey John, why don't you let me handle this one alone?"  
John sighed, and replied, "Not just trying to get rid of me, are you?"  
Gordon exaggerated a hurt look.  
"Of course, I am."  
"No, I'll just stay out here just in case you get into trouble."  
Gordon shrugged and grinned. John watched him knock on the door and walk in. While Gordon was introducing himself, and John was wandering the hallway, Amanda walked out of the mailroom with a handbasket full of mail and bottled water in one hand, and an iced coffee in the other. She walked towards the elevator once again.  
George looked at her.  
"Down here again?"  
Amanda shrugged. "It's a living,"  
The doors opened. Amanda took one look at Dave as he exited the car, and gave the man a wide berth.  
"Hi Amanda," he waved merrily.  
"Well, why did the penitentiary cut you loose?" she asked coldly.  
Dave took note of the frosty reception and walked passed her towards the mailroom.  
"Good behavior, darling,"  
Amanda and George shared a disgusted look before she got back on the elevator again. 


	5. A Damsel in Distress

In the elevator, Amanda set her handbasket of mail down and spoke into her badge.  
"Hey, Chris. You'll never believe this. Dave said he got out of jail for good behavior. Can you believe it?"  
She waited for what should have been an instantaneous reaction. When the response did not come, Amanda touched the badge again.  
"Hey Chris! Quick looking at that screen for once, would you?"  
Still no answer. That was odd, she thought.  
The elevator had just passed the second floor. She figured she'd find out in due time what was keeping her friend's attention. More than likely, it was either work or a man.  
Up on the tenth floor, Chris sat back down to frown fiercely at the strings of code that rolled slowly up from the top of the screen. Her left temple throbbed.  
Something about the pattern was wrong, she decided, but what was it?  
Someone knocked on the door. She turned around expecting to see Amanda weighted down with mail and drinks, but found a young red headed man walking in instead.  
"Hi, I'm Gordon Tracy. May I come in?"  
"Hi," she said, distractedly.  
Normally, Gordon was used to movie star treatment when women found out he was Jeff Tracy's son. He'd have no end of offers that ranged anywhere from a night out on the town to marriage proposals galore. But when Chris took one look at him with the most boyish grin he could come up with that usually had women practically falling at his feet, she just gave him a distracted greeting and turned back around.  
Gordon was floored.  
He stifled the need to check in a mirror to make sure everything was where it ought to be and walked up to her desk.  
She was staring intently at a screen full of numbers and letters that scrolled its way from the bottom up to the top to disappear into cyberspace.  
He tried again to gain her attention.  
"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you. My father heard that some of the employees here had to come in inspite of the Friday holiday he'd given everyone here..."  
"'Father'?" she echoed, "Uh-oh,"  
She swung around, and apologised profusely. Her name tag read Chris Gruber.  
That bugged him, too. She wasn't impressed that he was the son of a multibillionaire. She was worried that he might give a bad report to her employer who happened to be his father.  
Chris brushed soft brown hair away from her face. Warm brown eyes set in a gently oval face looked up at him worriedly. "I'm so sorry," she said thumbing at the screen, "I've been going over these entries of codes for over an hour now, and I know there's something wrong, but I just can't see it!"  
Her concern caused him to drop the playboy nature he was used to displaying, and he grabbed a chair from the cubicle behind him. He sat down next to her and turned the screen so they could both see it.  
"It could be just me, I guess. My partner entered the codes in this week. She's notoriously accurate.," Chris explained, "but there's something just not right about them. The more I look at them, the more I feel something is wrong. I just don't understand why,"  
Gordon studied the screen.  
"You're really worried about this,"  
Chris nodded.  
"Yes, I am. Amanda and I came in to finish some work up before Monday..."  
"Why?" he interrupted.  
Chris gave him a hard look.  
"Because there is so much tedious work to do that if we took a day off, we'd be so far behind that it would affect everyone else's work. Amanda would tell you that her work is pretty simple. All she has to do, she thinks, is to copy what she reads into the computer. Any monkey can do that. But anyone else doing it would be to slow, inaccurate, and you have to know what happens when procedures aren't entered into the memory correctly,"  
"The inaccuracies would filter all the way through the company affecting everything from buying and selling to the actual products made which would eventually affect Father's good name,"  
"Exactly. Amanda is the most accurate person I've ever met. When she tells me she's entered the information in correctly, I know she's done it." Chris sighed, " The problem is in the codes themselves! The patterns are wrong, and I don't know what it is or why it is. It just is."  
Gordon dropped his chin into his palm of his hand as he thought aloud.  
"This is one time, I wish Father's favorite resident scientist was here. He'd probably be able to just look at the numbers and know exactly what the problem is."  
Chris looked hopeful.  
"Do you think he'd be willing to look at them?"  
Gordon shook his head.  
"He's awfully busy right now. He's just like you. If there's something that needs to be done, he just goes and does it. I can't remember when that guy has had a vacation. I think he needs to let his hair down, but try telling him that."  
"Well, I'm not that bad."  
Gordon gave her a look that made Chris feel just a bit guilty at that.  
"Well....maybe I am."  
They both laughed at that.  
"Tell you what." Gordon offered, "I'm nowhere's near as smart as he is, but I'd be happy to go over the codes with you. You've probably been staring at them for so long they're not making sense any more. John can go chasing people down."  
She smiled appreciatively.  
He smiled back.  
Maybe this was going to work out after all, he thought. 


	6. A Hole In The Ground

Outside the computer room, John wandered the hallway. He walked past the elevator which was running up to the 6th floor, and glanced at his watch which read 10:57am. He took another peek at Gordon, and hmphed. The two were looking at each other with obvious delight.  
John stretched a bit. His reflection in the window did the same.  
Why was it women like the mischievous types anyway, he thought. Even Scott had his moments, although the old boy scout wouldn't ever admit to it, and Virgil had the kind of nature that caused everyone to forgive him of an indiscretion or two while it added to his charm. It just wasn't fair, John decided.  
"You'd think women would like somebody like me. I'm good looking, I think. I'm quiet. I pay attention to what a woman says. I treat them like they're royalty," he said to himself as he studied his reflection in the glass, "Maybe I need to just get out a little more. Put the books down. Get on the phone...."  
That thought had him digging into his pocket again for a little black book he kept in his wallet. He fished it out, and began to study the slightly yellowed pages critically.  
The names he still had any contact with dwindled down in length compared to the list of names crossed out. He stopped at the letter T. If he didn't look any further, he could claim he still had some active numbers, and he himself would be non the wiser.  
He slipped the booklet back in his wallet and shoved it back into his back pocket, when he heard a low clear feminine voice say,  
"Who are you talking to?"  
Meanwhile, Dave walked into the mailroom and approached the desk. Right behind it were dozens of pigeonholes. Some were for individuals, while others were meant for offices throughout the building. He searched for his box, found it, but found nothing in it.  
That's strange, he thought. He pulled out his cell phone, and hit the number 2 on the speed dial.  
"Johnson, its me! Dave."  
"Did you find that envelope?"  
"I'm in the mailroom now. Doesn't look like anyone's here."  
Dave searched around and then walked behind the counter until he stood in front of the pigeonholes full of mail.  
"It's not there, Terry. Are you sure your guy.....?"  
"Of course, I'm sure! I don't pay good money to have someone screw up. In your case, I'm beginning to wonder! I want those codes in today!"  
"Alright, alright! I'll search every hole until I find it. It might have just got put in the wrong spot by mistake. Have you got the dish set up now?" Dave asked as he yanked stuff out of the nearest pigeonhole.  
About an hour south of Orlando a large satellite dish sat stood in a field of overgrowth that had once been owned by the military. It sat shedding old paint and its metal frame was rusting in places as it waited to receive its instructions. A round heavy metal hatchway with a five foot diameter sat atop the ground several yards away.  
From its lip, a rather shortish man crawled up on the ladder that led out of the hatch. He reached out behind him and grabbed the ring on the lid of the hatch, and pulled it towards him. As he stepped back down the ladder, he drew the lid closed, and then tightened it down before he slid down the ladder with his hands.  
Dust scattered when he hit the flooring, and pulled his cellphone from his pocket.  
"Yes, the dish is set up! That's why I need the codes put in!" Terry swore. He rubbed the now grey buzz cut stubbled all over his head as he hiked the horizontal shaft down to an open area filled with computer hardware. A cinematic movie screen covered nearly the entire wall. A satellite hung in the center of the screen, rotating on its axis as it orbited the earth against a perpetually night sky peppered with twinkling stars.  
"It's just a white business envelope with my initials on the back!" Terry growled, and then snapped the phone closed.  
His little project which had taken five years to accomplish was nearly completed. He pushed himself off one of the two leather chairs that sat in front of the computer consoles facing the screen to wander about the little control room. There was really nothing more to do now. Just wait.  
He spotted the dart board that hung on the wall to the right of the screen near the room's exit. Fastened onto the board was a picture of Jefferson Tracy. What was left of Jeff's nose covered the center of the bullseye.  
Terry wiped an alcoholically swollen nose on his sleeve as he studied the picture of Jeff. He sneered with disdain at the ruggedly handsome square jaw, and the piercing blue eyes that time seemed to enhance rather than diminish. He dragged a hand across a burlap rough face, and touched the six inch scar he'd been given during a fight in the mess hall from a jagged piece of steel.  
"Jeff, old son. In a little more than 48 hours, I'll blow that island right from underneath your feet."  
Terry smirked and pulled a dart out of Jeff's head. He stepped back, took aim at the eyes and threw. The long heavy needle sunk into Jeff's throat with a satisfying thunk. 


	7. Caught In The Act!

Meanwhile, Dave searched every pigeonhole, and found nothing. He ransacked under the counter, but found only old typing paper, scissors, staplers, and someone's sack lunch that smelled like it hadn't been touched in a week. Where could it be?  
The moment he had trashed the mailroom, the clock was ticking. Someone would be back and very soon. The search would be on to find out who'd done it.  
He could just go to George and tell him that someone had trashed the mailroom, and the last person in here was Miss Prissy herself. He grinned at that, and then froze at the thought.  
Maybe that was where that envelope went to.  
Dave walked up to the door and took a deep breath. He had to leave the room the way he went in.  
He smiled at George as he left the office, and walked back towards the elevator once more. As he got in, he began to wonder how he would get into the computer room to look in the basket.  
Dave smiled as he thought about it. Why not just walk in and ask?  
One floor passed after another.  
If that didn't work? Well, he'd just have to get the girls out of there, so he could look.  
If all else failed to turn up the codes, Terry would just have to put the codes in himself.  
As he walked back out onto the tenth floor, he looked towards the computer room as he walk towards his own. Amanda was holding that blasted mailbasket while John Tracy stood chatting her up.  
Oh geez! Mr. Fantastic was looking for a date!  
John caught Dave looking at him as he turned to face Amanda. He knew his face had to be pretty red just from the way his beard prickled underneath his skin. Well, he'd been caught fair and square.  
"Who me? I was talking to the me in the window."  
She followed his gaze and saw her own ghostly reflection.  
"How's Scott and Alan?" she asked.  
"Squirrelly as usual,"  
She set the mailbasket on the floor.  
"You mean Alan?"  
Man, this gal didn't miss much.  
"Yup," he laughed, "and Scott simply needs a long vacation."  
Amanda thought about that for a moment.  
"Too much in control, and his hair isn't long enough,"  
John laughed inspite of himself.  
"Bossy commanding types always lost it with me. I like them high tech and bookish." she said, "so what's your mission for the day?"  
Again, she'd left momentarily speechless.  
"Well," he said evenly, "Father wanted me and Gordon to sneak around and find out who had been asked to work here inspite of the company wide holiday."  
"And then what, if I may ask?"  
He found himself liking her. She certainly wasn't a knockout by Gordon or Alan's definition, but she had a funny way of hitting him with straight on honesty with both barrels.  
Amanda had a tight corsetted no-nonsense librarian look to her. Light brown hair sat on her head in a bun. She wore a simple navy blue skirt, and white blouse. The suit jacket was a copy designer. The whole outfit was finished with hose and high heels.  
It had to be a disguise.  
John suddenly wondered if she was really a hippy. Hip hugger bells with love beads and a peasant shirt.  
He burst out laughing at his image.  
"Alright," she said with annoyance, "What's so funny?"  
"I just got to thinking about something my brother said." he answered, "I've got to go drag Gordon out of there, or your coworker won't get her work done. By the way, how about dinner tonight?"  
He was surprised to see her cheeks turn pink.  
What was so embarrassing about asking her for a date?  
"Waitaminute," he said, slapping his forehead, "Let me guess. You're Scott's girlfriend, aren't you? That's it! He's gonna kill me!"  
"Not by any means, shape, or form." she groaned.  
He grinned at her which caused her composure to fall just a little.  
"So-o-o-o-o. does that mean you'll go?"  
"Well," she replied, "I guess so,"  
She slid around his body to grab the door handle and slid into the room while forgetting the basket.  
John felt pleased with himself. Even if he hadn't gotten the date, he felt more than assured that he could tell the guys back home he still had it.  
As he grabbed Amanda's basket, he caught Dave looking at him again. What was with this guy?  
Meanwhile, Chris turned around to see Amanda walk in with John behind her.  
"Find anything out?" Amanda asked as she walked over to where Gordon and Chris sat.  
"Not a thing," Chris answered, "get the mail?"  
Amanda looked lost for a second and looked back at John who raised the item in question in the air. He gave it to Gordon who gave it to Chris.  
John pulled Gordon out of his seat with a grin.  
"Come on. We have to give these ladies the idea we know what work is. Let's get the job finished and we can come back later for lunch."  
Gordon allowed himself to be pulled and yanked towards the doorway, while the girls watched with amusement.  
"Spare me oh master of the desert! The work is too great!"  
"Scott's master of the desert, you goof!" John sighed, "Catch ya later, Mandy! Don't forget our date tonight."  
Chris looked up at her with a grin. Oh, this was too good to pass up. "'Never trust a good lookin' man' I believe you've said......"  
Amanda blushed a red Chris had never seen before.  
"I don't want to hear it." 


	8. Gordon Tracy,PI

As Amanda sat down and began to type, Chris poked around the basket and found the plain white envelope with a gold sticker.  
She pulled it out and slit the envelope open. In it was a single sheet that had a yellowish parchment quality to it with a list of codes on it. Each string of code began with the letters SO3BKO.  
Meanwhile, Dave heard John and Gordon leaving the computer room. He peeked around the corner to see them walk into the elevator.  
As soon as the doors closed and the elevator's car slid upward again, Dave made his way down the hall.  
As he stepped in the room, the reception was polite, but frosty.  
"Hey, Amanda," he asked, "Did you happen to find an envelope with a sticker on it that has the initals TJ on it?"  
"No, we haven't," she answered without looking at the keyboard.  
Chris said nothing. Just studied her screen.  
"Okay, well I'll catch you ladies later."  
"We'll let you know if we find it," said Amanda.  
"Thanks,"  
Amanda watched out of the corner of her eye as he left. He didn't look happy.  
She looked at the work she had left to do. Only two pages to go.  
In the elevator, Gordon noticed John touched the letter p on the touch pad. He leaned against the side of the car.  
"Now where are we going?"  
"The penthouse," John answered, "Father's going to be expecting us to call in pretty soon to find out how things are going. And there's something else I want to do before we pick up the girls."  
"What's that?"  
"It's that guy Andy Smith. Did you get the feeling that we were being watched?"  
"What about him? Other than the fact that the guy gives me the creeps."  
"He's been keeping tabs on us."  
"I haven't really noticed much,"  
"I wonder why?" John remarked, drily.  
Gordon shrugged with a laugh.  
"I want to check him out on the bioscan. If he comes up clean, then we and the girls have nothing to worry about."  
"Much as I feel we're tempting Murphy here, what if he isn't?"  
That was a good question, John thought.  
"Depends on what we find,"  
"Why go to Father's suite?"  
John watched the controls as they slid up past the twentieth floor.  
"Father has had the best communications devices and computers the world has to offer put in. All from Tracy International. We can grab something to drink, and while I'm calling Father, you can search the company files on this guy."  
"Sounds like a plan," he said with delight, "You know, I always saw myself as a PI,"  
John rolled his eyes at the ceiling as he responded, "The underworld could only be so lucky!"  
"Very funny!"  
The doors opened once more on the 24th floor. John approached the door of the penthouse with a security card.  
Back down on the tenth floor, Dave watched as the letter P lit up.  
He looked towards the computer room, and then summoned the car for the tenth floor once more. As soon as the car arrived, he reached into the service box and threw the switch.  
Now, the car was stuck on the tenth.  
"Have a nice walk down, fellas!"  
Amanda said that they hadn't found anything in the basket, but Chris had said nothing. He could risk asking one more time for the envelope. If they still denied having it, he'd have to con them out of the room so he could check for himself.  
Now, how would he do that?  
He studied the corridor and saw the sprinkler system. He could set them off, but he might short out the computer system. That's what the codes Amanda was putting in would do corporation-wide, and the sheet he was looking for could be damaged.  
What he could do was grab the access codes, run for home, and send them into the satellite from his computer.  
He searched the hallway and spotted the maintenance room.  
Looking in, he found a room a bit larger than a closet with a deep basin in the back corner of the room. To his left were shelves filled with toilet paper and kleenex products, floor and anti-static window cleaners and several boxes of liquid hand soap. A small tool box sat on the bottom shelf. To the right, hanging on the wall, he found sponge mops, dust mops, and brooms.  
All he had to do was scare the girls.  
The water basin gave him an idea. 


	9. A Connection

Back upstairs, John slid the card into the card reader and pushed the door open. To Gordon, John walked around the room as if he knew it intimately. John walked into the northeast corner of the suite, and sat down in the plush electronic leather easy chair that faced a mohogany desk.  
  
Gordon watched fascinated as John set to work.  
"Computer," he spoke.  
"Security code clearance," the computer spoke mechanically.  
"Voice print." John replied.  
"Working,"  
"John Glenn Tracy,"  
"Retina Scan," the computer intoned.  
From the back wall of the desk, Gordon watched as a panel slid upward into the console revealing a flat tv screen. John looked into the screen and allowed a red ray of light to flash into his eyes.  
"Retina Scan complete. Access permitted. Welcome, John Glenn Tracy."  
Gordon shook his head.  
John got up and waved Gordon into the chair.  
"Have fun."  
Gordon grinned.  
"This is fantastic."  
John grinned at him in understanding.  
"All the information in the world is available to you, except for military. While you're doing that, I'll call Father."  
Gordon eagerly got down to work.  
"Computer?"  
"Working,"  
"Search for Andy Smith cross-referencing with Tracy International."  
While Gordon was digging in to his research project, John walked over to the entertainment center, and touched the control pad on the easy chair.  
  
"Computer."  
"Working,"  
"I need to make a person to person call,"  
"Name of party," it intoned.  
"Jeff Tracy from John Tracy. Security scramble,"  
"Working."  
Gordon stopped while their father, Jeff Tracy, appeared on the big screen tv.  
"Hi John. How are you?"  
The first thing John noticed were the creases dug into father's face. He was almost scowling.  
"Doing well, Father,"  
"How's your mission going?"  
"Very well. We've found ten people here. A security guard, two maintenance crew, two extremely dedicated ladies, and ....."  
On Tracy Island dusk had fallen. A copy of the magazine, 'Upwardly Mobile' laid in front of Jeff on his desk with a banner headline that read, "Terry Johnson: Freed! Swears Revenge On Jeff Tracy!"  
He'd just read the article and had been debating on what to do about it when John called in. It was a nice distraction from what would might turn out to be a bad situation.  
Jeff smiled deviously at his son and interrupted him.  
"Very dedicated, you say? So where are you taking them out tonight?"  
John's face became a nice red as he looked a little shocked.  
"Dad!"  
"It's quite obvious you've found yourself quite taken with these two. What makes them so special? Besides being caught working."  
"Well, let's put it this way. Our handsome features may not be enough to get them out of the computer room. Their names are Amanda Erickson and Chris Gruber? Well, we've invited them to lunch and I've invited Amanda out tonight..."  
Jeff laughed at John's plain spoken description of the situation.  
"You sound like you're not so sure they're going to go. Well, tell you what? I'll give those two ladies a call and insist they can have the rest of the afternoon off."  
Gordon walked over to where John was sitting and looked at the screen.  
"Hey, Dad, just a second. Can I talk with you about those two?" "What's up? You need an advance on your allowance?"  
"Dad!"  
John gazed up at his brother with a look that said, "I'm glad I'm not the only one." Jeff chortled at the predictable reactions.  
"Sorry boys. I'm about to get to bed in a little bit. It's been a long day."  
Gordon rolled his eyes at the ceiling.  
"Dad, Chris was telling me about a set of codes that Amanda has been putting into the main frame of the computer and swears there's something wrong with the codes, but she's not sure what it is. She's double checked Amanda's accuracy and it's right on. I'd like to spend more time with them to see if I can figure it out." said Gordon.  
"Well, let me talk with Scott, Virgil, and Alan. We're a bit short- handed here without you."  
"Ok, Father. By the way, do you know a Dave Andrew Smith?"  
Jeff thought hard for a moment on the name.  
"I think the name has been mentioned in an article I've just read."  
"He's someone we've met here. He's been keeping an eye on us, but I don't know why or if he's just overly nervous." John added.  
"Just a cursory check, Father," Gordon spoke up, "Something about this guy just doesn't add up, I guess. He's got a record on him. Mostly for gambling."  
"All right. I'll authorize this. I'll see what I can find out on my end. It might be something I want to know about."  
"FAB, Father."  
"All right, have a nice afternoon over there. And do me a favor, you two: stay out of trouble. I've got enough grey hair."  
John and Gordon both laughed and agreed from the screen.  
"Goodnight Father," they said in unison.  
Back in the penthouse, their father's image dissolved from the broken connection.  
"Okay," John said to Gordon, "Show me what you've got." 


	10. Once Upon A Time

Jeff moved his view of the videophone's blank screen to the magazine underneath his drumming fingers. He opened it up once again to turn to the article about Terry and himself.  
The first page featured a collage made up of past and present pictures of the two of them. The top most picture was an early publicity photo when Tracy International first began incorporation proceedings. Both were smiling, happy, and eager for the profitable future ahead.  
With Terry's movie star good looks and leadership, and Jeff's natural abilities at engineering and business savvy, the two became a formidable pair which propelled Tracy Inc. into a worldwide multibillion dollar commercial organization.  
Jeff remembered how much he secretly envied Terry's image being more prominently displayed but not enough to move from the background where he himself held most of the power. It'd been simpler and easier to work from behind the cameras. Terry drew the tabloids's attention off of Jeff so Jeff could work in peace.  
Unfortunately, the press had a field day when it was discovered that Terry had been siphoning off some of the profits for himself. Jeff shook his head once again at how the world turned upside down for the both of them after that.  
The next two pictures sat side by side. The first was of himself giving testimony at Terry's trial and the second was Terry's first mug shot. The last image Jeff had was seeing a defiant Terry being sentenced to 10 years in jail and the cold hard look Jeff received when his best friend was hauled out of court.  
The last photograph was of a jubilant Terry being freed two weeks ago and escorted out by a friend with brown hair, mustache, and dark sunglasses.  
Instinct told him this wasn't over yet.  
Jeff turned and typed in the number for the security desk at the communications building in Orlando, remembering his promise to call the girls. He'd talk to them first and then check out Dave Andrew Smith.  
Back at Tracy International, Dave decided to forgo asking the girls about the envelope a second time and hurried back to his room where he grabbed the code book for Space Observatory 3. He stuffed the book in his briefcase, and then ran back to the maintenance room.  
He grabbed an armful of floor cleaners off the shelf to make room for his briefcase. One of them fell out of his arms and struck the floor. A white filmy liquid with a noxious lemon fragrance seeped out of the bottle. Dave ignored it and dumped the rest of the bottles in the corner with it.  
He pulled out a wrench from the toolbox, and set to work pulling the fittings off the piping under the sink. The idea was to flood the tenth floor, and the minute the girls saw all that water sloshing around, they'd run like rabbits to avoid getting electrocuted.  
Terry's plan was to rub salt into the skin of an enemy who was about to be torn open with the system crash. Dave considered it just one more thing to go wrong. The system crash was unnecessary. Keep it simple, stupid.  
Terry insisted on having his way.  
Grunting and straining, Dave worked off the piping and turned on both taps. Water poured hard down through the sink and onto the closet floor.  
As soon as enough water collected, he opened the door and all the water fed from the sink washed forward onto the hallway. He grabbed his briefcase and forced open the door of the room next to where Chris and Amanda were working.  
Fortunately, the door had the only window facing the hall. He'd wait a few minutes and let the floor get really covered and then go running in exclaiming about a water pipe breaking and drag them out of there in heroic fashion. Perfect!  
Only then did he see the one flaw in his plan. From his hiding spot he could see water seeping across the floor and draining into the elevator.  
Dave swore!  
Whipping out his cell phone again, he punched number three on it.  
"George! You've got to do something for me! You have to shut off the alarm systems!"  
Over the mike, George answered, "What for?"  
"Look! I paid you a $1,000,000. You do it or the explosion that's about to commence will be blamed on you!"  
The last thing he needed was the access codes to get wet from the sprinklers.  
Up in the penthouse suite, Gordon brought up the employee registry file for Tracy International and put Dave's name in the search engine.  
"That's strange..." said Gordon, "according to the file he was fired last year for sexual harassment along with a few other indiscretions and guess who turned him in?"  
"And he's back working for the company? No wonder Amanda acted like she did."  
"Apparently. Must be an oversight of some sort."  
"That's some oversight."  
Gordon found a link at the end of the file and clicked on it.  
A red banner flashed 'classified'.  
John took control now.  
"Security override." John said into the mike, "Jefferson Tracy. Code 212325."  
"Working."  
They read the information, and then stared at each other.  
John started to lift his arm when he realised he couldn't call Amanda that way. Gordon held up a regular phone and punched a few numbers.  
"You've got Chris's number already?"  
Gordon grinned up at him and shrugged.  
"When you're hot, you're hot."  
John would have commented on this piece of information, but he was interrupted.  
"Hi Chris," Gordon began,"Is everything going all right down there?" Gordon asked, "We found out about Dave Smith. The guy that's working at the end of your hallway?"  
Down on the tenth floor, Chris grinned as she stopped to shut down the computer for a little while.  
"Oh, you did? Yeah, he came in not long after you left but other than that, he seems to have been behaving himself. Why?"  
"Did you know that this guy was fired last year? He's got a record as long as my arm span."  
Chris frowned at that.  
"Well, I know he's got some kind of gambling debt, and he attacked Amanda after he got plastered during the company Christmas party, but..."  
"Chris, I don't want to alarm you unnecessarily, but this guy has a record for murder, attempted murder, and ....."  
"Gordon, that's impossible! I know he's a womanizer and a total loser, but how in the world could he get back into the company with a record like that?!"  
"I don't know, but that's what turned up on this guy. We're looking at his files right now...."  
Gordon felt a slap on his shoulder and handed the phone to the outreached hand.  
"Chris, we're going to come down and stay with you until you're ready to go."  
Chris shrugged, and looked at Amanda who was studying the screen of her computer. She wore her headset and was having a spirited conversation with someone.  
Amanda stared at the screen with obvious delight at the 'old man'.  
"Hi Mr. Tracy,"  
"You must be Amanda,"  
"Right. How are you? How's the Pacific Ocean looking?"  
"Very beautiful."  
"I'll bet it is."  
"Amanda, how's your work coming along?"  
"Oh, I'm all done."  
"Good. Well, I've been made aware of how hard you've been working..."  
"Oh no," Amanda groaned. What else did those two say to dear old dad?  
Jeff laughed.  
"You are both off duty as of right now. That's an order from the old man himself. Have a good time. It's on me."  
Amanda hit the enter key of her keyboard to send the last bit of information into the main frame of the system.  
"Mr. Tracy, we'll definitely take you up on that."  
"Good, and tell John........"  
Suddenly, Jeff Tracy's voice faded in her ear at the same time the screen went dead.  
"Mr. Tracy?" 


	11. A Miscalculation

John waited for Gordon to finish up with the phone when he noticed the monitor flash brightly for a minute and then darken.  
"What the...."  
Gordon saw it and was hitting the reset button, but the computer remained black.  
"System crash of some kind." Gordon remarked, "Hey Chris. Do me a favor. Have you got your computer running right now?"  
He heard her reply in the negative.  
"No, why?"  
"Our system seems to have crashed. What's yours doing?"  
"Hang on. I'll check."  
Over the phone Gordon heard the whine of the tower being being fired up, and keys tapping sharply.  
"It's down, Gordon. So's Amanda's. She was talking with Mr. Tracy when the system crashed and cut them off."  
Gordon looked up at John and shook his head.  
"Their system's down, too."  
John shook his head.  
"That's impossible. We're on a different system entirely. It shouldn't be happening to both of us."  
The more John thought about it, the more uncomfortable he was getting. A lot of strange things were happening.  
"Gordon, tell Chris to stay where they are. We're coming back down."  
  
John's reflected a certain urgency that Gordon instinctively reacted to.  
"Chris, we're on our way back down. Lock the door and don't let anyone in except us."  
Gordon led the way to the elevator and hit the down arrow key.  
The telecoms on their wrists began beeping and John saw his father's worried expression.  
"John, is everything all right? I just lost contact with Amanda."  
On the tenth, black sooty smoke began to engulf the floor. Dave laid on the floor away from the door and covered his ears. A moment later, there was an explosion.  
At the sound, Amanda heard Chris scream as she threw herself down on the floor. The windows shattered from the concussion. As soon as the shuddering stopped, she picked herself back up again.  
"Chris?!"  
On the 24th, John felt a slight tremor under his feet.  
That was odd, he thought. Gordon turned and shook his head.  
"Looks like the elevator's out. It should have come up by now."  
John thought for a moment. Fourteen floors down. They could do it, but it was too slow for his taste.  
"Follow me," John commanded.  
To Gordon's surprise, John led him back into the penthouse suite, through the kitchen, and on into the master bedroom. John went right to a switch that turned on the light switch. A king size bed sat to the back of the room. Above the bookcase that also served as the bed frame were two large smoky colored tulip shaped lamps. John walked over to the one closest to them and turned it down.  
Part of the wall slid aside to reveal an auxiliary elevator just large enough for 4 grown men to stand in. With a grin, Gordon followed him in and watched John hit the key pad inside the elevator.  
"All right. Confess. You've been walking around here as if you owned the place. How's come?"  
John grinned at him.  
"The place is meant for Dad, but I designed it."  
Chris got up on her hands and knees with shock written all over her face. Amanda reached down to give her a hand.  
"What happened?!" Chris yelped.  
"I don't know." Amanda coughed, "but we need to get out of here. C'mon!"  
Thick black smoke began to roll in through the places where the windows were shattered. As Amanda helped Chris towards the door, she thought she could smell something like burnt lemons.  
In the room next door, Dave covered his face with a large handkerchief and waited until the girls had left the computer room, and hurried in.  
He searched Amanda's workstation and then searched frantically through Chris's.  
Grabbing the mail basket, he threw one envelope after another out until he saw one blank envelope thrown in the wastebasket next to her desk. He turned it over and saw the torn gold seal on the back.  
The sheet of access codes was gone! 


	12. Speed vs Dignity

Cursing, Dave threw the envelope on the floor with disgust. Tightening the handkerchief around his face, he dove out the door and down the stairwell closest to the parking lot.  
As Dave ran through the thick choking smoke, John and Gordon reached the tenth floor. When the doors opened, water splashed onto the floor of their elevator car and a thick, black cloud forced them right onto the emergency exit.  
As John took the lead, he knew by what they had just seen on the tenth floor that there would be no way to get to Chris and Amanda. The heat and smoke was too great.  
He could only hope as they passed the eighth floor that the girls were able to get to the fire escape from where they were.  
Just outside John heard the wailing of sirens. They'd reached the seventh floor.  
On the eighth, Chris and Amanda stopped briefly. Water trickled past their feet. Chris coughed so hard she heaved, so Amanda helped her to an open window to breathe while she tapped the comm badge still on her coat.  
"George! Are you there?!"  
The security guard's words tumbled out of the badge's little speaker.  
"Mandy! Where are you?! What happened?!"  
"There was some kind of explosion." she answered.  
"Are you all right? Where are you? Is Chris there?"  
Amanda searched the wall and found a metal plated 7 indicating they were on the seventh floor.  
"Seventh! Yes, Chris is with me. Have you heard from John and Gordon?"  
"No, I haven't. Haven't seen them since this morning."  
"Please God," she thought, "tell me they made it out ok,"  
"As soon as you get out of the building, I want you and Chris to head straight for the parking lot!" George ordered.  
"Quick as we can!" she huffed, "Can you make it, Chris?"  
They arrived on the sixth floor landing and headed for the fifth.  
Meanwhile, Dave arrived on the ground floor and shoved the emergency door open. Fire trucks screamed through the parking lot entrance.  
He ran over to George who checked him off and then allowed Dave to run over to his car without giving a report.  
The Triumph was thrown into gear and Dave roared off through the gate.  
At that moment, Gordon leapt the final set of stairs to reach the bottom with John right behind him. They arrived through the door to the right of the parking lot.  
John scanned the group of huddled figures as others made it out, but Amanda and Chris weren't among them.  
"They're still in there!" John yelled, "C'mon!"  
Fire trucks and paramedics pulled up front as he started running again to the opposite side of the building.  
They raced across the sidewalk, almost reaching the front of the building when there was another explosion.  
John's palms were scraped badly as the force knocked him to the cement. Gordon caught himself and rolled to a stop.  
Gasping, John snapped his orders, "Gordon! Take the first exit! I'll take the back one!"  
"Right!"  
John felt his heart pounding in his ears as he dashed around the corner of the building, narrowly missing being crushed by a piece of the structure's cooling system.  
Picking himself up again, he finished the distance. He took a few seconds to grab several breaths of air before yanking the back exit door open and mounting the stairway.  
"Chris! Amanda!" he shouted upwards, "Can you hear me?! It's John!"  
There was silence for a few seconds, and then he heard Amanda's voice choked with fear!  
"John!"  
"Amanda! Stay where you are! I'm coming up!"  
He signaled Gordon on his telecom as he dashed up the stairs.  
The girls were picking themselves up off the landing of the third floor. They'd gotten that far before the most recent explosion pitched them downward. He got to Chris first and gently lifted her into his arms. Her arms were bruising and her face had a streak of blood running down it. Gordon arrived to help her down the rest of the way.  
Amanda was next. Her hair, singed and matted, hung down past her shoulders; her face was smudged with soot, and her body shook from exhaustion. With his help she manged to get to her feet but she stumbled on the landing.  
"I can make it..." she said determinedly.  
"Honey, we've got to get out of here right away. This place could collapse at any time!" John urged, "Let me help you!"  
Without waiting for a response, he simply picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. He travelled the last three flights concentrating on his footing, and in no time at all they were out. As soon as he had them far enough away from the danger, he set Amanda down again. She looked slightly miffed at the indignant carry.  
"Of all the embarrassing ways to..."  
"Are you all right?" he asked, interrupting her.  
John allowed her to rest and relax for a moment, knowing she was simply reacting to all that had happened to her. She took a deep breath and supported herself on his arm.  
"Yes. Thank you for getting me-I mean 'us'-out of there,"  
"Your welcome." replied John.  
The grip on his arm became stronger as she swayed slightly. John immediately scooped her up in his arms.  
" Were all women this stubborn?" he wondered to himself.  
"What are you doing?" she asked, mystified.  
"Hey, there's a television crew coming." he grinned, as he carried her around the building.  
Strobe lights began to flash as they came into view.  
"So?"  
"Our picture is going to be plastered all over the tabloid news channels. Well, it wouldn't be very dignified if I carried you the other way, would it?"  
Her mouth fell open as the realization hit her.  
" So, let's make this look as absolutely heroic and romantic as we can. What do you say?"  
"You're incorrigible!" she cried.  
"Yeah, I know!" he grinned. 


	13. Ned Cook's Report

On Tracy Island, Scott awoke to the sounds of someone beating a sharp stacatto on his door. The clock read 6 am. "Scott! Are you awake?" "I am now," Scott muttered.  
"Can I come in?" called Virgil from the other side of the door.  
As Scott rolled over, the sunshine struck him in the face, and he groaned. "Come on in, Virg!"  
The door slid upward and Virgil ran in making for the control board to Scott's entertainment center in the room. Normally, Virgil was the best dressed of the whole family. He always showed up at the breakfast table dressed for the day and ready to go, but this morning, he'd simply thrown on his bathrobe, his hair was a mess, and he badly needed a shave.  
  
Like a vampire in his coffin, Scott slid up in his bed and closed the blinds to the windows.  
The 30 inch flat screen TV turned on.  
"What's going on?" he asked, "Did the Cubs win the world series finally?" Virgil pulled the computer chair over next to Scott's bedside to watch as images began to appear on the screen. "John and Gordon are on TV!"  
Scott watched as a commercial for the new Orion anti-gravity car finished and the scene was switched to a wide angled view of the Tracy International structure now engulfed by flames while fire tenders sprayed huge jets of water into it. Black smoke poured out of several places throughout the building. The camera dropped downward from the roof where an explosion sent pieces of the cooling system flying down to a view of a man and woman supporting each other as they hurried towards the camera. The camera tightened on them and viewers could see Gordon leading a young woman away from the fire.  
"This was the scene in Orlando, Florida at the Tracy International Communication building at 2:30 pm this afternoon," said an excited Ned Cook, "According to security, the skeleton crew of workers---many seen here being treated by local paramedics---were inside these offices when the fire broke out. No alarms sounded, according to one security guard who requested that his name not be used, but he insists that the building is indeed equipped with both alarms and sprinkler systems. Only when he received word from escaping workers was he able to call for help.  
And I've just learned that two of Jeff Tracy's internationally famous sons, John and Gordon were in the building as well, making their way out of the building and then went back into the flaming inferno to rescue the two women you see here being carried out, inspite of the fire fighters and police urging them to stay away!"  
To Jeff, watching the same news coverage in the briefing lounge, John seemed oblivious to the cameras and lights aimed in his direction. Instead John was preoccupied with gently carrying a young woman with long blonde hair who appeared to be Amanda, the employee Jeff had spoken with earlier. The cameras caught the honest look of concern on John's soot-smudged face.  
The commentator continued his report with a bit of flair.  
"Well ladies and gentlemen, I've heard all kinds of stories about the pampered and decadent lifestyles these boys lead surrounded by the luxury afforded by their father's incredible wealth, but these selfless acts put to lie all of it. It would be a real treat to know what Jeff Tracy is thinking right now, but it has always been this great man's policy not to grant interviews. Jeff Tracy, if you're watching, I want to be the first to say how impressed I am with the actions of your sons. You should be very proud of them right now."  
Up in the briefing lounge, Jeff sat by himself while watching the broadcast. The whole family tried hard to avoid the limelight of fame, but it was an almost impossible feat to perform. Inspite the loss of a crucial part of the business, Jeff sat back in his office chair and smiled to himself. His boys had demonstrated to the world that they weren't just playboys but were real, caring individuals.  
He was especially proud of John as he shook his head at the reporters and cameramen spilling onto the sidewalk to talk with him. Jeff had to chuckle as he viewed John shouldering passed them so he could take Amanda to the paramedics and give a report to the police chief who awaited them.  
Silently, the studious Brains entered the lounge to watch the continuing coverage with Jeff. On the row of portraits of Jeff's sons which signaled incoming International Rescue communications, the eyes of John's picture began to flash on and off. Jeff turned off the television and turned towards the monitor. "Go ahead, John," he beckoned him.  
From the looks of things John had just gotten out of the shower. His hair hung in blonde ringlets all over, and a towel hung around his neck. "Hi Father," he greeted Jeff. "I wanted to let you know that everyone got out okay except for David Smith. He was the only one not to check in with the security guard."  
"I'm sorry to hear that. Where are you now?" Jeff asked. John looked pretty tired as he answered the question. "We're all at the Ransom this evening." John answered.  
Jeff viewed the monitor screen with concern. "How are the girls? Are they all right?"  
"They were pretty shaken up. A few bruises here and there." John answered.  
Looking a bit surprised, Jeff asked, "The girls are with you?"  
"Yes. We've taken the tenth floor. The girls have the left side of the hall and we've got the right." After a moment's hesitation, John continued, his face covered with worry. "Dad, I know this is unusual, but I've got a bad feeling about Dave Smith's involvement in all this. In fact, I'm tempted to think he had something do with the fire at the communications building. Before that we had a double system crash and Chris said Dave came in to the room just after we left asking for an envelope with some initials on the back. He'd been keeping a pretty tight eye on Gordon and me. And there was something else as well. Amanda told me there was water all over the tenth floor in spite of the fact the sprinklers hadn't come on. I don't have any solid facts to base it on--- just circumstantial evidence."  
"A double system crash?" Brains asked, "Are you sure?"  
"Positive Brains. Gordon was in touch with Chris at the time it happened. I designed the computer system in the penthouse to run independently with the rest of the systems in the communications building. Both of them went down at the same time."  
Jeff frowned. He didn't like this either. "So, we have Dave talking with the girls about an envelope, a double systems crash, explosions and a fire, water all over the tenth floor, and the alarms and sprinkler systems coming on only after the security guard finds out about the fire after some of the skeleton crew in the building are escaping....what do you make of all this Brains?"  
Brains shook his head. "John's right, Mr. Tracy. It's all circumstantial but suspicious nonetheless."  
"I agree, Brains. Get on this right away, and John? I want you and Gordon to keep an eye on the girls. It's the least we can do for them. I know their lives have been turned upside down over this, and while you're at it, if Amanda or Chris can provide you with more information, I want to know about it." ordered Jeff, "John, before I let you go, I just wanted to let you know you and Gordon are all over the news broadcasts this morning."  
John felt his temper growing just a bit short. His words came out a little sharp, "I'm sorry, Father. We tried to avoid it."  
"I'm sure you did, son. Ned Cook has been on the air saying how impressed he was, but I want to say that I'm very proud of how you handled the whole situation."  
John hesistated. He suddenly didn't know quite what to say except, "Thanks Father."  
Jeff said with a grin,"All right. I'm through embarrassing you. Get some rest. All of you."  
"FAB."  
As John closed the connection in his suite, Chris threw herself on the double standard bed with a squeal in hers. The clock on the night stand next to her read 7 pm. She looked up at Amanda who stood in the adjoining doorway that connected their rooms together. Slipping into a pair of grey running slacks and white laced top she relegated her skirt and blouse to the trashcan to the back in her suite.  
"Can you believe this, Mandy?" she asked. "Here we are in the classiest hotel ever devised in Orlando and all of this at Mr. Tracy's expense!"  
Amanda laughed quietly, enjoying Chris's excitement as she walked passed the beautiful Hollywood-style vanity with big watt bulbs that surrounded the mirror. There were all kinds of cosmetics in the drawers just for use, along with various types of custom services available by phone for anything they could possibly want. Just for fun, Amanda called the "guest services" codes for a bowl of chocolate covered cherries and, minutes later, received a pound of them from room service. Later, she peeked around the window furnishings in Chris's room. The structure was up high enough that Amanda found it hard to look down even with the visible guard rails. They were on the 15th floor, but it felt a lot higher than that. There was even a helipad on top of the roof, according to the coat clerk. Far below, the city winked and blinked in a rainbow of colors as the night life of Orlando kicked off in full swing at dusk.  
"How many courses were there at dinner anyway?" Chris asked. Amanda allowed the window curtain to fall back as she answered, "I quit counting." "I've seen men eat before, but nothing like those guys ate." added Chris, with a laugh. Amanda had to agree. She'd heard of quarterbacks eating a sack of groceries at one sitting. She knew of an ex-marine who could polish off a 12 inch steak with all the trimmings. John and Gordon, by comparison, ate as if they weren't going to get another meal. Two appetisers each, thick slab of steaks, water, wine, soda, salads, fish, bread sticks, garlic toast. Nothing was wasted. It reminded Amanda of firemen during a big operation.  
"And you know what else seems weird?" Chris wondered aloud, "They were quite comfortable talking to all those super wealthy people, and got along with them okay...."  
"....but they didn't really seem to fit in," Amanda finished. "Yes, I noticed that, too. How did you like the computer station?"  
At the mention of the computer, Chris jumped off the bed and brought up a 17 inch flat screen from within the furniture. To Amanda, it looked as if the frame held two pieces of glass with ionized gas within it. It was such new technology that her mind couldn't quite grasp the science behind it. Chris touched the heat sensitive opaque keyboard and the screen sprung instantly to life. They both laughed. Gordon appeared, staring back at them from the screen.  
"Hi Chris! What's so funny?" His puzzled expression sent them into short bursts of laughter.  
"Too hard to explain," she answered with a cough, "I just wanted to thank you for everything,"  
"You're welcome. Enjoying all the gadgets? They just replaced the computer systems."  
"Oh I love the whole thing," Chris replied, her face reflecting her enjoyment. Amanda saw her pull out a yellowed sheet of paper from the inside of her sweater as Gordon began to speak again. "So, you wanna get together this evening? Check out the gameroom maybe? They have a nice little dance room, too."  
Chris tucked the sheet back into her sweater. "Yes, that would be nice. I'll see you in a few minutes." Suddenly, Gordon vanished into the ether and the screen slid back into the console. A mere two minutes later, Gordon was knocking on the door. Chris let him in.  
"Hi Amanda. Wanna come with us?" She shook her head, stating, "No thank you. I don't feel like running around. Have a great time, Chris. I want her back by 11 pm, Gordon."  
As they took off, Gordon could be heard whispering, "Man, she's as bad as John is!" 


	14. A Very Close Call

When they reached the end of the hallway, Gordon held the door open for Chris, and they climbed into the elevator. Gordon touched the 'G' button and soon they were smoothly dropping down.  
Chris noticed the pad had an H button,too. "What does the 'H' stand for? Is that for the helipad on the roof?" "Yes, it is." he answered, "You won't get me to go up there, though. They don't have much in the way of a guard rail. Oh, they've got something up there in place that meets with the minimum safety requirements but you definitely don't want to look down."  
With a raised eyebrow, Chris leaned back on the opposite side, looking at him. "I've got vertigo, so I won't have a reason to go up there. You know, I'm surprised you feel up to running around after today's adventures."  
Gordon gave her a shy smile. "Well, I know I'm straining John's nerves a bit. I'm keyed up and this is how I like to blow off energy. He's the complete opposite which, is probably why Dad paired us up. He keeps me out of trouble, and I give him some exercise."  
In another moment, the elevator came to a rest. The doors slid open to reveal a busy lobby. Chris was amazed at the glittering cocktail dresses and smart tuxedos with bow ties that walked in and out of the bar entrance. A tall elderly woman with a tiny pointed nose and died black hair passed them. Her haughty piercing gaze scanned the crowd as she made her way to the elevator. In her fur coated arms was a tiny yapping dog with two solid black eyes and a tiny black nose.  
Gordon grasped Chris's hand and tugged her arm insistently towards the hallway where the game room was located when the woman turned around and froze both of them on the spot with a loud, "Gordon Tracy!" Gordon swore under his breath as the imperious lady approached them. Chris wisely held her tongue and let Gordon do all the talking.  
Gordon straightened his back and faced her while keeping his hands on Chris's shoulder. "Mrs. Underhill, it's wonderful to see you. How are you?" Mrs. Underhill looked down at him with narrowed disapproving eyes. "Out running around again with another woman you've just met? Shame on you! Why haven't you settled down now with a nice girl and taken a prominent position in your father's business? He can't run Tracy International all by himself, you know."  
Chris expected Gordon to respond to this by giving Mrs. Underhill a good dressing down. Instead, he pretended to look around to see if people were listening, and in a loud whisper, he explained. "Actually, I am in the process of doing just that. Her name's Chris. She's incognito and I'm trying to convince her I'm marriage material. She's a distant relation of the Grimaldi family in Monaco and she's doted on by the prince."  
Mrs. Underhill's mouth dropped open in surprise. "So she's titled then?" Gordon hushed her. "Yes, so please-please-please don't let anyone know what I'm up to. Dad loves her. If I blow this...."  
Mrs. Underhill gave Chris the once over and then nodded her approval. "Your secret's safe with me. Good luck. I don't know the Grimaldi, of course." she spoke wistfully, "But they're really quite prominent people." With that, the woman turned on painfully sharp, black heels and walked into the elevator. Chris giggled merrily as soon as the doors closed. "Oh, that was close." Gordon sighed, "Come on."  
As they turned and walked past the bar entrance, neither Gordon nor Chris saw Dave slip from behind the elegantly etched glass doors. He crossed the lobby and pressed the up button next to the elevator door. Once safely hidden in the car, Dave double checked the contents of his pockets which contained a master key card, a hypo spray of anesthetic that released its contents when pressed against the skin, and a fully loaded handgun. With Gordon and Chris out of the way, the only people he had to worry about now was John and Amanda.  
In a matter of moments, Dave was deposited on the tenth floor just outside the double doors that led onto the private apartments. His heart began to pound when he peaked around the edge of the window frame in the door to check out the floor. The corridor laid empty. Suddenly, a door hissed quietly opened as Dave took a step onto the floor. As John walked into the hallway Dave snapped back into his hiding spot behind the door. "Hey, Gordo! Anybody home?"  
From her suite, Amanda heard heard John calling and opened the door. "John? Gordon took Chris out to see the sights. They won't be back for awhile."  
John turned to see her leaning against the door frame with a tired, fading smile. "John, we need to talk about something."  
"Okay. Do we know each other well enough for you to come over to my place?" Amanda tucked her arms around herself and replied, "Oh I suppose so." "Good," he grinned slyly, "because I need to find a shirt before you melt all over the floor from gazing at my perfect physique!"  
Dave looked through the window in time to see Amanda follow John into his room. A wave of jealousy struck him hard.  
"John, come on. I'm serious!" she sighed as she rubbed her face tiredly. A black t-shirt lay on the chair. While he threw the towel on the table and slipped the shirt on, she struggled to put her thoughts in order. "Look, I'm grateful for all you've done, but you could have just called us a taxi, and sent us home. Why are we really here?" The sad look he gave her, puzzled her. "The most important reason you're here is so we can protect you," he answered. "Protect me? John, that system crash happened right after I entered the last page of codes! Mr. Tracy has to blame me for all of this. He'll probably want to prosecute! You just don't want me to skip town...!" she insisted.  
On the other side of the door, Dave pressed the door open just a little to hear better. Amanda unwittingly made herself out to be the villain, but it was John's words that caused Dave to simmer with anger.  
"That's ridiculous!" John snapped. "I just got through talking with Dad just a few minutes ago, which is why I was looking for Gordon so I could tell all of you what's going on. I've given him all the information I could and he's got his best man looking into this. Just because he's overly wealthy doesn't mean he's selfish and uncaring. If he's got a problem, it's that he's driven. It's my guess that Dave has something to do with all this, and he knows where you live, doesn't he?"  
Amanda paled at his words. "How much do you know?" John sighed. "Enough to know he hurt you. You've been shying away from me, Amanda. Even now you're unconsciously trying to protect yourself." Self conscious about her actions, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. "John, I can't help it!" she spoke angrily. "And what can you do about it?"  
The day's events were beginning to wear John down as he thought about the situation they were in. How many times had his father said not to get involved with the people they rescued? "Way too many times," he thought. A clipboard up on Thunderbird 5 had an actual count. He saw her hands sliding up her arms again as if to ward off a chill and then pull away again as she fought between instinct and awareness of what she was doing. She growled in pure frustration and spun around to storm out of the room when they both heard footsteps coming down the hall.  
For a moment, John's thinly controlled temper snapped. Incensed that she would walk away from him, he took the damp towel laying on the table and whipped it toward the door's sensor. The movement caused the door to slide closed as she was about to run out and collide with Dave who'd snuck out of his hiding place to slip into Amanda's suite. Unaware of the close call, she whirled around. John saw the fury in her eyes and the poised hands prepared to launch an attack.  
"Let me go!" she cried out. John shook her roughly. "Calm down! I'm not going to hurt you! That may have been a reporter coming down the hall! Hush now!"  
"Oh, you don't want more publicity involving me? Is that it?" she exclaimed. John hushed her again. "Yelling and shouting? No! Kissing you with abandon? Yes!" The effect of his words quieted her. "What did you say?" Releasing a breath he had been holding , John laughed at the emotional roller coaster they'd been on. "Amanda," he breathed. "Just kiss me, would you?" 


	15. Needed: A Fast Getaway

The second John's door slid closed, Dave grabbed the opportunity and dashed into Amanda's suite. He looked quickly around and spied Amanda's damaged clothing in the trash can. Time was against him, so he didn't bother searching Amanda's place but hurried into Chris' and made for the communications station that also served as a desk. He chose the top drawer and yanked while, down the hall, John fingered the softest hair he'd ever felt.  
"John, I'm so exhausted I can hardly stand up anymore. I've really got to get to bed," she pleaded. "I do, too," he agreed, "but the way my life has been, when I find something good, I hang onto it for dear life." In the silence following, Amanda thought about that and found it puzzling. "For a man with so much, that's a curious thing to hear." "Is it?" he teased. "You know, I wasn't born into wealth. I was pretty young, but I still remember some lean times we went through. Losing my mother made things pretty difficult. Tell you what, why don't we have breakfast tomorrow and we'll talk about it." She laughed when he picked up the towel again, snapped it, and the door rose once more.  
Meanwhile, Dave looked around to see if he'd missed anything. He was beginning to wonder what Terry was going to do if the codes couldn't be found. There was an excellent possibility that the codes were now a soaking pile of ash back at the communications building. The only other possibility was that Amanda had it. With that in mind, Dave moved back to Amanda's room to check, which made him wonder how the space cadet was doing. Wealthy guys like John were all the same. If they couldn't have what they wanted, they just took it. That's when John's door rose again. Alarmed, Dave hid along the inside of Amanda's door just out of sight.  
Unaware of her intruder, Amanda noticed how John hadn't truly let her go as they walked back. He held her hand as they walked the short distance across the hall. At the door, he embraced her once again and tilted her chin upwards so he could give her another long kiss, which made Dave's mouth fall open when he heard the sounds. "Promise me one thing before I let you go," John asked. "What's that? Has our relationship grown that fast already?" she teased. John didn't answer that loaded question. "Don't you ever wear that goofy bun in your hair ever again." He liked the simple carefree way she dressed now, and he suspected rightly that this was the real Amanda. She smiled sadly. "Yes. Well, I'm reacting to the way Dave treated me, I guess." As she spoke her face started to turn away, and John gently brought her chin back towards him again. "Let me make this perfectly clear---I am not Dave." He was pleased to see her smiling again and took that moment to share a long, needy kiss with her before letting her go.  
On the other side of the door, Dave smoldered as John and Amanda embraced once more. All the happy sounds and words of endearment had Dave's anger broiling to such a degree that he gave up on trying to find codes and decided to kill John instead. He noticed Chris and Gordon had both left their doors open. Dave poked his head out to see John and Amanda still embracing and slipped across the hall. His heart pounded as his eyes narrowed angrily. "Let's see how she likes having a dead boyfriend," he thought. He ran quickly through Gordon's room and into John's. Carefully, he placed his back against the wall by the door and slipped the gun into his hand with the butt up.  
Meanwhile, Amanda finally pushed John away from her, waved goodnight and closed the door. John blinked for a minute and then turned around to walk back to his suite, still tingling from her touch. "Yup, I'm dreaming this whole entire thing, and when I wake up I'll be in that stupid tin can again..." he groaned to himself. He walked through his suite door, unaware of Dave's presence on the inside of the doorway. "Man, can that lady kiss! I'll be dreaming about her for the next..."  
Dave stepped forward and swung. John felt a blunt object strike his head. For a moment, he saw splotches of red and gold and then blackness. He struck the floor with a loud thud. "Now I've got you right where I want you." Dave cocked the hammer of the gun back and aimed for John's head when he heard Amanda's door open. Swearing, Dave hid himself in the same spot by the door just as Amanda saw John lying on the floor. He pulled out the tiny air gun of anesthetic into his fingers and switched the gun into his left hand. Without thinking, she raced across the hall and ran to his side. "John!" she exclaimed. Engrossed with seeing John so still, she did not see Dave was behind her until something cold was placed on her shoulder and she felt the tiny air gun release. Instinctively, she grabbed his arm and yanked hard while twisting her body. The gun flew out of Dave's hand as he tumbled onto his backside.  
When he sat up again, he found the gun now trained firmly on him. "I should have known." she hissed. He was taken aback by the deep seated anger in her eyes as she held his gun firmly in both hands. "Don't you dare move." she ordered, "Was it you who set the fire at the building and turned off the sprinkler systems? And how did you manage to escape the fire in the first place without anyone knowing? You must have flooded the floor. What's going on David?!"  
David looked at his watch. The anesthetic would be kicking in soon. All he had to do was stall her. It made one heck of a picture seeing Amanda with her hair down, and holding that gun over John's body as if trying to protect him.  
"Okay. The fire was merely an accident---" She interrupted him, " An accident?!" He shrugged while he adjusted his legs more comfortably. "I flooded the floor and happened to knock some household cleaner into it. I didn't turn off the sprinkler system. George did it." Amanda's mouth fell open as Dave explained all too calmly. "I paid him a million dollars to let me into the building, and turned off the sprinklers for me when I asked him to." Amanda shook her head in disbelief. "That's how you got in." "Exactly. And by the way, just for you information, you were the one who caused the computer system to crash." "I figured that out," Amanda replied. Dave started to get up, but she cocked the hammer back. "Just stay right where you are. You switched the codes on me, didn't you?" Dave relaxed. "Won't be long now," he thought. "Yes, it was me. I came in earlier in the week dressed as a delivery guy. Pretty easy to waltz in and switch one book for another. I had a couple of those binders at home. One more thing I'd better tell you. You've got one more minute before that anesthetic I gave you kicks in so if you've got any more questions, better ask me now." "You're bluffing!" she said.  
Dave grinned confidently as he looked at his watch. "Forty seconds." Amanda felt her head beginning to cloud over. "Why are you doing all this for, David?! Why?!" Her hand began to sink and the gun's barrel dropped. "Twenty-five seconds---because Terry Johnson's paying me 25 million dollars to do this. Where are the access codes, Amanda?" Amanda suddenly felt dizzy as she looked down at John. "I don't know---" Dave got up and watched as she fell across John's chest unconscious. Dave reclaimed the gun and aimed it at her head when his cell phone beeped.  
"Did you find the access codes?!" Terry yelled over the phone. "No, I can't find them. I've searched the girls' rooms. Either the codes burned up in the fire or Chris has them on her. I found the envelope in the basket by Chris's desk, but it was empty. Now what?" There was a brief moment of silence before Terry swore and said, "I'll need a hostage--- now!" Dave smiled at John and Amanda laying in front of him. "Will do. Be there in less than an hour." He punched in a couple of numbers and spoke again. "This is Andy Smith calling. I need a chopper readied for me right now, please. Tell the guy there'll be a whopping big tip for him if he can do it for me in less than 15 minutes." He snapped the phone closed and pulled Amanda's limp arm. "Come on, Sunshine. We've got a plane to catch. Don't want to be late." Stuffing the gun in his pocket, he pulled her limp form over his shoulder and hurried toward the elevator.  
As the rotors of the hotel's helicopter began to crank up, Chris and Gordon moved on the dance hall where they were now dancing alone, swaying slowly to the music as he lead them in slow circles about the room. Chris laid her head on the hollow of his shoulder blissfully happy as they danced. Gordon had been quiet since the music started. Chris looked up at him and asked, "What are you thinking about?" "Oh---wishing we could dance like this all night long." he answered, dreamily. "But you know we can't," she remarked sadly. "Nope, we can't. he agreed, "and as a matter of fact, it's about 11 pm now. We're going to have to end this, I'm afraid." "Can we do this again?" she asked. "Of course," he replied, "Come on. You're getting tired."  
Together, they walked out of the dance hall and made their way back to the elevator. Gordon noticed that the car was all the way to the top. "Looks like someone's borrowing the chopper tonight."  
On the way up to the roof, Dave grinned down at Amanda. There was one more little hurdle to cross and that was the chopper attendant. The guy would want to know what was wrong with Amanda, and Dave needed a plausible excuse, and what could be more plausible than a husband and wife heading for home after a heavy night of partying? "Perfect," Dave thought.  
  
When the elevator doors opened again, Dave was struck by the winds whipping around the building. He glanced around edge of the hotel looking at all the neon stars twinkling off in the distance. The winds created by the chopper's propellers blew his hair aside. The attendant, Bob Lepchyk, was making last minute inspections when he saw them. Dave was pecking Amanda's head in apparent fondness as he walked around to the passenger side of the plane and strapped her in. Filled with concern for Amanda's condition, he asked, "Is she all right? Do you want me to call the hospital and let them know you're coming?" he shouted over the din. "Just had a bit too much to drink. You know how it is? She's just dead tired. I'm gonna get her home. She'll be okay."  
Dave circled around the front of the chopper fighting the air currents stirred up around him and then climbed in to the pilot's seat. Bob looked expectantly at him. "I heard there was a good tip for this." Dave grinned at him and nodded his head. "There is," he shouted. Pulling his gun, he shot Bob in the chest. The impact of the bullet sent Bob tipping backwards until he hit the edge of the building. His screams were swallowed up as Dave turned the chopper skyward. 


	16. A Dangerous Gamble

Thirty minutes after attacking John and Amanda, Dave landed the stolen helicopter at the missile site guided by four floodlights which he had put in two months ago. Four more lit the dish up. As soon as he felt the landing gear drop against the earth, he shut the engines down, unbuckled from the seat, and ran over to Amanda's side. She was breathing deeply, and bent over as far as the harness allowed her. Behind him, the hatch opened with a clank as the lid dropped backwards against its housing. Pulling Amanda's limp body from the chopper, and putting her over his shoulder once again, he turned and walked towards the hatchway. He could see Terry from the shoulders up standing on the ladder that led into the silo.  
"Why didn't you grab one of the Tracys?!" Terry shouted as Dave walked up with his burden. "Give me a hand, would you?" he answered. "Look, I had to make this trip as quickly as possible. The only Tracy available was John. There's no way I could drag him into the elevator, get him strapped into the chopper, and bring him here in the time you demanded. It'll still work. Trust me!"  
Terry swore as he guided Amanda's body down into the tunnel. "What are we going to do with her?" "I don't know. We'll come up with something," Dave said after he slid down the ladder and quickly took Amanda back from Terry. "Whatever we do, we have to do it soon." Terry insisted. "Oh, by the way, the price for my services went up. It's $25 million now." Dave stated. Hearing that caused Terry to whirl around on the cocky programmer, brandishing a gun. "Say that again?" Terry hissed. "No joke. Gun or no gun." Dave repeated calmly. "It's $25 million." Terry cocked the gun and aimed the barrel at Dave's face. Dave just shook his head with a smile. "You need me, pal. You need someone to set up the connection between us, International Rescue, and Tracy Island. And you can't do it. Kill me now, and this little revenge scheme of yours goes belly up with the bullet that hits my brain. Up to you, though." Dave looked at Amanda. "Don't look to her either. She can't do the programming that's needed. It's me or nothing. Consider the fact that I set the whole blasted thing up. From buying the stupid structure, renovating it, getting the dish put in, and getting you out---you owe me big time!" The two men glared at each other. After a few moments, Terry reset the gun, and set it back into his back pocket. Dave followed Terry down the tunnel to the control room. "Look, Tracy is an old softy inside. He knows Amanda works for the company," Dave explained. "Her name's been plastered all over the news channels along with Chris' in connection with the fire. It's played right into our hands. Amanda isn't a Tracy but Jeff's gonna do what you want anyway. If he doesn't, you can kill Amanda and we can leak the information to the press that he let this poor employee die. The press will eat that up so fast, they won't care if it's true or not."  
Terry needed Dave's expertise in setting up the connections so the control of Tracy Island's communications would be transferred to the missile silo's controls. After that, Terry would kill him. All he had to do was be patient just a little longer. Dave pulled off his jacket as Terry dropped Amanda down on the grime covered floor. "What exactly does you're program do?" Dave smiled broadly as he took one of two chairs in front of the console in front of the broad wall screen. "What I'm doing in layman's terms is to surround Tracy's entire computer run communications system with my own. Several worms go in and search for weak spots which there always are. One of them will find the weak spot, deliver a virus into the system, blow up all the defenses, and an added program will transfer control of the captured systems to you." Terry was visibly impressed. Dave turned in his seat. "There is no system I can't hack into. None. Now that's certainly worth $25 million, don't you think?" Speaking evenly, Terry got down into Dave's face and stared into the younger man's eyes. "You're making one mistake that you better clear up on right now. Of all the men I have ever known--- every type of businessman I have ever met, this man is absolutely formidable. If you don't learn that now, you'll fail. There is only one thing I want, David. I want that island and every single person on it blown out of the Pacific Ocean." Still smiling, Dave grabbed one of two headsets on the control board. Terry spun him back. "If I don't see that happening, you will die. Do you understand me?" Dave nodded soberly. "Good. Now, the first thing we have to decide on is where the final access codes are."  
As Dave tapped nervously at his keyboard, he said, "When I got into the computer room at the communications building, I found the envelope opened and thrown in Chris' trash can. The codes were not in it. I searched through all the papers but couldn't find it. I even followed them to the Ransom Hotel and searched their rooms. There is a possibility that Chris has them on her." Dave finished activating the radio dish while Terry rubbed a stubbled chin as he thought about that. "They're a long way from home. How long would it take them to get to Tracy Island in the fastest ship available to them?" Dave stopped to think about that. "By the new Fireflash, they could be back in the Pacific in about a little over three hours." Terry grinned, "You're a betting man. What do you think the odds are that Chris would have the codes on her?" Dave shrugged. "It was Chris and Amanda who tipped the cops on the programming errors that led to Fred Hendricks being arrested for trying to sabotage the last Sunprobe rocket launching. I'd say the odds are pretty good." Terry straightened with a grin as Dave handed the second set of headphones to Terry. "You're all set." Terry spoke firmly into the mike. "Calling International Rescue. Calling International Rescue! This is an emergency. I repeat---this is an emergency. Come in, please!"  
High above the earth's atmosphere, Thunderbird 5 spun on its axis as it circled the Earth. Within its protective confines, Alan sat in John's favorite leather easychair, munching on a bag of popcorn while listening to his favorite radio station. He decided he must be getting older. He had little by little grown to appreciate his monthly forays on Thunderbird 5. Not enough to want to extend the thirty day time period up in the sophisticated satellite, but it gave him time to think. His mind had been on TinTin who was spending more and more time with Brains lately. Alan wanted to deepen his relationship with her, but she wanted a firm commitment first. In the beginning of their relationship, he just couldn't see himself settling down with a family and getting more involved with the business. Telling her that he feared he wouldn't come back on missions he participated in made sense. As time wore on and he grew more seasoned with his work, he truly began to fear he wouldn't come back. More than once, he very nearly died. At the same time, TinTin took on the more dangerous aspects of rescue missions as Jeff's faith in her grew. Alan felt very uncomfortable seeing her come home bloodied, dirty, and disheveled. If they did agree to get married, she'd have to agree to stay home. Rescue missions were out.  
He got up out of the chair and walked to the observation window where he could see the multitude of unblinking stars. His reflection stared back at him. Alan had the uncomfortable feeling that time was growing short and he would have to make a decision soon about the two of them.  
His thoughts were interrupted by an emergency call coming over the speakers. "Calling International Rescue. Calling International Rescue! This is an emergency!" Alan hurried over to the communications station and pulled his headset on. "This is International Rescue. Reading you loud and clear." Alan responded. " Go ahead, please."  
"International Rescue, I need you to patch me through to Jefferson Tracy. Now." requested Terry. At this request, Alan froze for a moment before responding to the call. Hearing his father's full name coming across the speakers in the communications room of Thunderbird 5 from a complete stranger unnerved him. Immediately, he began trying to get a fix on the caller. Did someone just figure out that his father was the commander of International Rescue?! "This is International Rescue speaking. Please state the nature of the emergency." "Young man, this is the emergency. If you do not patch me through to Jeff Tracy on Tracy Island in the South Pacific, there is a young woman who will die in the next five minutes. Her name is Amanda and she works for Tracy International. "  
On Tracy Island, Jeff stabbed at the intercom and ordered, "Brains, I need that report on the communications building." Alan's monitor began to flash as Brains walked in. Virgil snored quietly on the couch while Scott sat next to him, reading a technical journal. Jeff tapped the button that brought up the receiver. "Go ahead, Alan. What's going on?" "Father, I've picked up a threatening distress call." "A what? Do you know where it's coming from?" "No, Father. I'm being jammed. He said if I didn't patch him through in the next five minutes he was going to kill an employee of Tracy International. Someone by the name of Amanda...." Jeff interrupted Alan instantly, "Patch him through. Now." Scott grew alert and tapped Virgil on the shoulder to wake him. Jeff brought down the wall screen and for the first time since the trial, he was face to face with Terry Johnson. Without hesitation, Jeff took command of the interview. "Terry, I just got a call from International Rescue---of all places---that if you weren't patched through to me that one of my employees would die!"  
Terry's eyes narrowed as he tapped the shoulder of another man who rapidly stabbed at a keyboard. The man tapped Terry in the arm and nodded to him. Dave hit the enter key that sent his program into the Tracy system. "Yes. That's exactly what I said. Time has treated you well. Must be living on that tropical---." Jeff's voice grew hard. "I want to see Amanda now before we go any further!" "Of course. I expect nothing else." Scott and Virgil watched with their father as Terry stepped behind his chair and knelt down for a moment to gather someone with long blonde hair into his arms. Jeff took one look at the woman hanging senselessly in Terry's grip and realized that it was indeed Amanda. Virgil shook his head in dismay. "Terry, let that girl go---!" Jeff yelled at the men on the screen. "This is just between you and me!" The camera caught Terry's every move as he walked across the odd computer room Jeff saw behind the other man. Terry dropped Amanda right on the console. Her arm slipped off the edge. Dave flung it back over as if annoyed. "Oh it's between you and me all right. I spent ten years of my life stuck behind bars while you spent those same ten years in the lap of luxury, pal. I worked hard to get you where you are today and I intend to collect all of it. It's not the money I want, you understand. I've got enough of it myself, actually." Jeff stared at the screen, puzzled. Terry enjoyed his reaction. "What I want is that you and your family suffer like I and my family have suffered. Every last one of you." "Terry! Let Amanda go and I'll meet you anywhere you want---!" Terry grinned and shook his head. "Sorry, old man. I've been planning this way too long...right down to the last detail. You know the communications building that burned down? I take full responsibility for that, and I thought I'd let you know that the next building to go is the Ransom Hotel in Orlando. I believe that's where two of your sons are staying? John and Gordon? Also, just to let you know, Dave is in on this, too. He's got plans of his own for Amanda and her co-worker Chris. We'll be able to take care of the whole thing in one feld swoop---!  
Jeff fairly leapt at the screen, shouting, "Terry! You can't do this!" Terry cut him off. "By the way, it won't matter where they go. I'll know right where they are. Bye, Jeff. Have a pleasant day." With that, Jeff stared at a broken connection for only a moment before issuing orders. "Virgil, get down to Thunderbird 2. Scott take the service elevator. You're going to be picking up three people: John, Gordon, and Chris Gruber. I'll give you coordinates when you're airborne. Get moving, boys." 


	17. No Place To Cry

Virgil guided Thunderbird 2 into launch position and called the briefing lounge. "This is Thunderbird 2 to base. Do we have clearance for launching?" From his chair, Jeff responded, "You're clear for take off, Thunderbird 2. Get back as quick as you can." Jeff's response having gone unheard within Thunderbird 2's cabin, Virgil frowned. His father had not responded. Concerned, Scott listened carefully as Virgil repeated his request. "This is Thunderbird 2 calling base. Am I clear for takeoff?"  
"I've got it, Virgil," said Scott when the proper response was not forthcoming. He raised his telecom up to his face and said firmly, "Scott calling base! Come in, please!" A startled Jeff answered, "Scott, I gave you clearance to leave. What's the hold up?" "I repeat! This is Scott in Thunderbird 2. Come in, please!"  
Jeff stared at his mike. He turned to his keyboard and spoke into the mike again. For some reason, neither Virgil nor Scott could hear him. "Brains! This is Jeff. We've got a communications failure! I need you in the briefing lounge immediately!" "I-I'm on my w-way, M-Mr. Tracy" Brains answered. "Thank God the house intercom system was operational," Jeff thought. He turned to his telecom watch on his wrist and called, "This is Jeff Tracy to Thunderbird 2. Come in, please." Scott gave a sigh of relief. "Scott to base. You had us worried there for a minute." "I can't understand it, Scott. Communications were just fine a half hour ago. All right, you boys have to go. You're cleared for take off, and we'll communicate through the watches. Keep in touch, both of you." "Will do, Father. Thunderbird 2 out." As soon as Jeff could hear the sound of Thunderbird 2's rockets firing, he spoke once more into the watch, "This is Jeff Tracy to John. Come in, please."  
Back at the Ransom Hotel, John's watch began to beep over and over, demanding an answer. The familiar sound penetrated his mind, which shrouded in darkness, pulled him back to consciousness just as Gordon and Chris entered the hallway after getting off the elevator. John's left arm bent over his chest in automatic response. "John to---," he managed to say before groaning at the pain flaring in his head. "This is Jeff Tracy to John. Son, is that you? Answer me!" John blinked a few times before answering again. "Father? Oh man---my head hurts." he breathed. "John! Can you hear me? Are you all right?" He rolled over on his side and pushed himself up. "Can I hear you? Yes," he answered, "Am I all right? No." "John, what happened?!" Jeff asked.  
Outside the door, Gordon heard the conversation and thought quickly. Thankfully, Jeff had not said 'this is International Rescue'. Both he and Chris looked through John's door as John was struggling to get up on his feet. Looking at Chris, Gordon replied, "Something's happened. Go check on Amanda and make sure she's all right. After all the things that have been happening---," Chris nodded fearfully and walked into Amanda's room. Once Chris was gone, Gordon stepped into John's room and hurried to his brother's side. "John, are you all right? What happened to you?" Over John's watch, Jeff replied, "Gordon, what's wrong with John?" Gordon guided John over to the loveseat in the living room and sat his brother down. "I feel like I got socked in the head by an asteroid."  
Gordon frowned. Rubbing the back of John's head, he found a bump about the size of a small hard boiled egg. His hand came away with a spot of blood. "Tell me you didn't insult Amanda and she slugged you?" Gordon joked, inspite of the fact he didn't feel like laughing. Neither did John. "Very funny. All I remember is that I walked Amanda to her room, kissed her goodnight, turned around and walked back into my room. I took just a few steps in and something knocked me in the head." "Boys, I've sent Virgil and Scott to pick all three of you up. They should be there in less than an hour." ordered Jeff, "I'm going to have to forgo policy in light of what's going on. The moment they touch down, I want you all to board Thunderbird 2 and get back to base just as soon as possible. Don't stop for anything." Gordon and John looked at each other in dismay. Things must really be bad if Dad was setting security aside. John realized father had said three people were being picked up. "Father, what do you mean by three? There's four---," Jeff cut him off quickly. "I'm sorry, John. There'll only be three of you. Amanda won't be coming with you." John stared in shock at Gordon as he answered sharply, "What do you mean Amanda won't be with us?!" There was a pause on John's telecom before Jeff answered. "Amanda was kidnapped. Apparently, while you were unconscious."  
Chris made a cursory glance throughout Amanda's suite and into her own, but could not find her. Walking back to where she started, she began looking for clues. Amanda's purse and shoes lay on the floor next to the bed. She looked at the closet door which had been slid aside. Slacks and shirts were pushed aside and two nightgowns had been twisted toward Chris so she could see what they were. She thought back to what Amanda had been wearing. Strangely enough, wherever Amanda was, she was running around barefoot, and wearing only the thin top and running slacks. The only place Amanda wore so little was at home in her apartment. Alarmed, Chris ran back to John's room only to find the door closed. She rapped on the door sharply and was allowed in.  
Before she could say a word, Gordon replied, "We've got an emergency and you're coming with us. You need to get your things together and meet us back here as quickly as you can." Dumbfounded, Chris shook her head in confusion. "What? Gordon, I can't find Amanda. I mean---we can't leave without her---," John turned to her as he grabbed for his shoes. "Chris, we haven't got time to argue. Do what Gordon told you to do. Amanda was kidnapped. We haven't got time to waste."  
Chris was amazed at herself for turning around and obeying. How the heck did Gordon know what happened to Amanda when she and Gordon had just arrived at John's door? There was something so different now about both John and Gordon that suddenly she wondered if Amanda hadn't been right all along. She just accepted Gordon's easy, playful manner, along with his wealth and status. The way they treated each other--- John acting as if he was in serious charge of something, with Gordon giving him his full support- --made her feel like they shared a secret that no one but the two of them shared. She wondered if it was wise to leave with them, but if she didn't go with them, she reasoned, she might never know what happened to Amanda.  
Less than forty minutes later, John led them to the elevator. When the door opened again, she found herself on the edge of the helipad on the roof. She was shocked to find herself staring at International Rescue's famed green Thunderbird 2. She'd heard about the ships, but this was the first time she'd ever seen one of them up close. Thunderbird 2 was so massive, Chris felt incredibly dwarfed by its size and appearance. She had to be gently coaxed to walk into the hatchway that opened up to an elevator. Gordon explained that it would take them up to the cabin of the ship, hoping that he could make her more comfortable, but Chris remained completely silent as if she hadn't heard a word. She looked angry. Her mouth was set firmly in a short thin line and her eyes were narrowed in controlled fury. "She's absolutely exhausted," Gordon thought sadly. Chris needed sleep, a friendly face, and a private place to just cry.  
Unfortunately, Thunderbird 2 was in short supply of all of those things. When the door opened again, Gordon introduced her to Scott and Virgil. She took Scott's hand, shook it, and went to sit down in one of the comfortable bucket seats set up in the cabin. As soon as Chris sat down, the ship was pushed upwards into the night sky on its retros until it reached the proper altitude and powerful atomic engines roared to life as they were ordered by their pilot. Gordon brought her a cold drink from the ship's stores while John went to fix an ice pack for himself. Scott called base to let Jeff know they were underway again with all three passengers.  
"How are they, Scott?" Jeff radioed. Scott studied the three of them. Gordon gave him a tired thumbs up, Chris shrugged at him while John held an ice pack to the back of his head. "They're all pretty exhausted and John's hurt." "All right. Tell Virgil not to spare any power. I want you all back here as quick as you can possibly make it," Jeff radioed. "FAB, Father," Scott acknowledged.  
The moment contact was broken, Scott turned in his seat and faced the trio. He turned towards Chris and apologized to her. "International Rescue extends its apologies, Miss Gruber,for all the trouble we've caused you---," Chris had had enough of the whole thing. Her head hurt, she was beyond tired, and her patience was gone. "Look, the only reason I'm even here is to find out what happened to Amanda," she snapped. "How long did you both know about what happened to her? We were both at the door when we found John unconscious. You sent me to check on her, I was gone for a few minutes, I come back and suddenly you knew she had been kidnapped. I never should have trusted you!"  
Scott accepted her tirade calmly as both Gordon and John knew he would. As soon as she'd vented some of her frustration and settled back down, Scott lifted his wrist and spoke into his watch. "This is Scott in Thunderbird 2 calling International Rescue. Come in, please," Instantly, Chris heard a familiar voice coming through the watch---of all things! "This is International Rescue, Scott. What's you're ETA?" "ETA is approximately 1 hour 30 minutes," Scott asked. "FAB, Thunderbird 2. Base out."  
To Chris, Scott explained, "We all have these watches which we call telecoms. We can be anywhere in the world and still be in touch with Jeff Tracy who commands International Rescue. That's how Gordon and John knew about what happened to Amanda." "Now, explain to me about what's going on!" Chris said sharply. Scott answered, "Father received a phony distress call from an old business partner named Terry Johnson who took responsibility for the fire at Tracy International, kidnapped Amanda Erickson while she was at the Ransom Hotel, and threatened to bomb whatever building the three of you were in. That's why Father insisted that we bend policy and bring you along with John and Gordon. He wanted to protect you, Chris and he feels terrible for what's happened to Amanda. We've recorded the broadcast, so you'll be able to see for yourself. The moment Terry broke contact, Father commanded us to come and pick the three of you up. As soon as we were in the air, he called and told John and Gordon we were on our way." Scott answered.  
Chris wanted to be anywhere but where she was. A knot of bundled emotion had grown to overwhelming proportions within her, but she was too tired to give vent to them. Gordon was unsure if she would accept his shoulder to cry on, but he was about to try when Scott got up from his seat and approached her. He knelt down on one knee and took her by the hand. "Can I call you Chris?" he asked gently. When she nodded, he continued to speak gently but firmly enough catching her eyes with his own. "Chris, you've been through so much already. There's nothing I can say that can change the past, but I swear to you that International Rescue will do everything in its power to find out where Amanda has been taken and bring her back safely. I'm asking so much from you, but can you hang on just a little bit longer?" He brushed a lock of her hair from out of her face and hugged her tightly.  
The page of codes inside of Chris' sweater crinkled underneath. Having to look into Scott's sea blue eyes caused something inside her to let go. She broke down in heavy sobs. After a few minutes, Scott gave her to Gordon who held her tightly all the way back to Tracy Island in the south Pacific. 


	18. Cold Sense of Failure

As Thunderbird 2 flew across the Gulf of Mexico with Jeff Tracy's most precious cargo, John dropped an aching, pounding head in his left hand. Scott's promise to Chris to get Amanda back served only to remind John that just after he himself had made a similar promise, Amanda had been kidnapped. "Can things possibly get any worse?" he asked himself.  
  
Under Scott's watchful eye and serenaded by Gordon's snoring as his younger brother fell asleep, John got up and made his way to the back of the cabin where he stabbed the switch that allowed him into the sleeping compartment. John rubbed at the bump on his head, while fingering the control panel that released a lower berth and climbed into it.  
At that moment, Scott walked in with a glass of water in one hand and a small white dish with two tablets in it. "Here," Scott said as he handed John the medication, "That's got to be some knock in the head." "I'll survive," said John, taking the medication and water in one gulp. Scott was the last person John wanted to see right now, but the headache John had hurt way too much to ignore. Wondering why Scott hadn't gone away, John planned on rolling over, hoping he would just walk out again. Instead, Scott laughed. "What's so funny?" John asked sharply. "I got to thinking about what you said when I said that that had to be some knock in the head." Scott answered. "What about it?" asked John growing annoyed. Scott replied, while he grabbed a chair to sit on. "You said 'I'll survive'. That's the same thing I said when I took that nose dive in the Sahara after I got shot down. You remember those two archeologists that found me? They made a comment about the cut I'd gotten and I said the same thing you said."  
John thought back to that time when it was his tour of duty in the satellite. Base had lost contact with Scott after getting word he was under attack. Scott had managed to belly flop Thunderbird 1 into the sand dunes, taking out the ship's radio transmitter in the process with no other way of making contact with base. Brains hadn't finished making the telecom watches they depended on so much now, making John Scott's last hope. John sought in vain to find a way to detect Scott from the satellite when Lindsay and his pal called to say Scott took a nasty bump on the head but that he was alive. John couldn't move fast enough to call base with the news. A hint of a smile from John encouraged Scott to continue.  
"Virg came dashing into my bedroom this morning to say you and Gordon were on TV. He wasn't even dressed when he came in. He woke me up banging on the door and insisted on turning on my TV set. We sat and watched just like we did when we were kids." John smiled just a little bit more, then yawned. "By the way, what's Amanda like?" whispered Scott. "I mean---she seems a little frumpy to me as far as the camera was concerned." The comment seemed a little cold to John and that didn't sound like Scott, so John replied with a grin, "She dresses like that deliberately. Actually, she's a total fox, she's all mine, and you can't have her." Scott stared down at John for a moment, and then burst out laughing. "I'll let you get some sleep and I'll wake you when we arrive back at base." John nodded. As soon as Scott left, and the lights were dimmed, John frowned.  
John pounded the bulkhead. He'd only been a bare few feet from her room. Here he was safe and warm, flying home in the fastest ship possible, but what about Amanda? Where was she? What was she going through? "Please, please forgive me, Amanda. I'm so sorry this had to happen to you. I wish I could have done something."  
As John drifted off to sleep, Amanda awoke to find herself staring up at a white washed ceiling crisscrossed with heavy steel pipes going in several directions and what looked like old reel-to-reel computer memory banks on her right side. To her left, two men sat in office chairs facing a blank wall to wall television screen. She rolled onto her feet, adding oily smudges to her hands, arms, and running slacks. The coolness of the underground control room caused her to shudder.  
Both Terry and Dave heard her getting up. Their chairs squeaked as they shifted in their seats to look at her with dull curiosity. She looked into Terry's eyes and instinctively backed up a step. As Terry turned back to the controls, Dave also returned to what he was doing and said simply, "Hi." Amanda stared open mouthed at the two of them. After a moment of searching for her voice, she exclaimed, "That's all you've got to say, David? Just 'hi'?!" Terry looked at Dave warningly. "Talk to her and make her understand her situation here, David, or she dies here and now!" Dave nodded and took a stunned Amanda roughly by the arm outside the control room. She watched as he turned to touch a glowing red button. A bulkhead door to drop down to the floor with a clang. "Take me back home---!" Amanda demanded, but Dave cut her off. "You are in no position to demand anything here. You are a prisoner here. Get that straight right now," Amanda ignored the warning. "What's happened to John, David?! I'm not going anywhere or doing anything until I---!" Incensed, Dave ground out his words when he heard John's name. "He's dead! I shot him before I brought you here!" Amanda gaped at him. "You're lying!" she shouted. " I don't believe it!" Dave grabbed her by the arms until she winced and her skin bruised under his hands. "Stop! Now!" he ordered, "I don't have to pull a trigger to kill you, Amanda. I could just leave you on the outside of this room. Every hour you're out here increases your chances of getting radiation poisoning. This facility is an old missile site from back in the 1960s and was abandoned by the Air Force. It is a toxic waste dump. The only safe place is in the control room. I had it cleaned and lined to prevent all radiation from getting in."  
Her voice shaking with anger at his cold uncaring smile, she hissed, "What's to prevent me from running?" Dave hit the switch once more and the bulkhead slid upward. "This place is an absolute maze. By the time you'd found the right path, you'd have taken on so much radiation you'd be lucky to survive the year." He smiled at her. Never did she want to slap him more than she did now. "David, what's this all about?! What is all this for? You can't possibly have a nuclear missile in this dump." Dave shook his head. "Give me a break. I can't tell you just yet, but when the time comes you'll have a front row seat---in approximately 30 minutes." Amanda shook her head in total bewilderment. "You burn down Tracy International. Wreck communications. Kidnap me---," she started to say when Dave interrupted her, "---and killed John Tracy to boot!" "You're mad! You're insane!" she cried. Again, he replied smugly, "I'm not, but Terry is,"  
In the middle of the white hot rage Amanda struggled to contain, she remembered when she first met him four years ago when she first hired in at Tracy International. Dave was a rising star at the time. He was handsome, smart, rich, and generous to a fault. His only vice was gambling. "What could have caused him to change into the man she saw now who was uncaring, cruel, selfish, and stupid?" she thought.  
"David," she asked no longer angry and rubbing her arms trying to ward of the chill she felt. "You had so much going for you when we first met. You could have had any woman you wanted. You could have climbed all the way to the top of Tracy International. Something stopped you! What happened?!" The pity he felt in her words made him both thoughtful and angry. "You did it---!" "No," she replied, "I may have ended it, but someone else or something else caused you to change, David! What happened?!"  
To her amazement, he answered her weakly. "I had built up a debt so bad that I couldn't raise enough money in the little time I was given. It was in Reno. Made the mistake of doing it at a place run by a group with Mafia ties. They sent someone to beat it out of me, and I killed him. While I was in prison, I met Terry. Between good behavior, and Terry's considerable funding he had well hidden, I was able to get out way, way early. For his help, I agreed to be his front man in all his dealings, made enough money to pay off my gambling debts, got him out on a technicality, and the rest you know about." She shook her head once more. "No, David. It still doesn't explain why you're doing all this. You're not so stupid that you would follow a man like this unless he's got something on you. Something serious,"  
He waved her back into the control room. When they came back, Terry turned in his seat while pushing a few keys on his communications board. "David, why don't you tell her the truth about yourself? Even I can tell she still doesn't understand yet about what you do for me," Dave's eyes narrowed warningly. "Shut up, Terry!" "Dave's been my hit man since he was sprung from prison," Terry announced loudly. He glanced casually at his watch announcing, "Okay, it's show time. Tracy's sons should be home by now." Dave shook his head, looking at his own so he didn't have to look at Amanda's stunned reaction. Leaning against one of the antique computer banks, Amanda felt sick, tired, hungry, and dizzy. The whole situation had just become impossible, but at the mention of John's last name, she looked towards the screen to see John's father, Jeff, talking soundlessly to another man with thinning dark hair and blue glasses.  
Dave had observed her studying curiously at the big screen and casually waved her over. Dave touched one button on the console and Jeff's rich baritone voice came booming over the speaker. "Brains, have you figured out why the communications system isn't working yet?" "Y-Y-es, M- mr. Tracy. It's a b-bit hard to explain. Basically, our c-communications systems have been captured. W-We no longer have control over them, except for intercommunications." "Can you defeat it?" Jeff asked. Brains shook his head. "Where is it coming from?" Jeff asked firmly. "I d-don't know that either, Mr. Tracy. I've a-attempted several times to trace the p- program's origin but I have not been s-successful."  
Terry grinned at the screen triumphantly. "At last, I've stumped Jeff Tracy!" Dave and Terry clasp hands in victory but Amanda paid them little attention as she listened intently to Jeff's conversation with Brains. Somewhere in the background, Amanda heard a distant beeping noise that brought both Jeff and Brains to turn and look towards something. Jeff hurried over to what looked like his work station in an elaborate livingroom. Fascinated, Amanda watched the lid of a box on his desk swing upward. He listened briefly to something and then spoke towards the lid. What he said next had all three of them in the missile site staring dumpfounded at the screen, "This is International Rescue, Thunderbird 2. You're cleared for landing---," 


	19. An Impossible Situation

Down in the missile site where they watched Jeff Tracy pacing in his office, Terry reached over angrily and pulled Dave out of his seat by his shirt. "I thought you told me Tracy couldn't see us!" Dave stared at the wild-eyed man he'd sold his soul to. "He can't!" "Then why is Tracy pretending that he's commanding International Rescue?! I know Jeff Tracy! All the man thinks about is the stupid company! He's playacting! Who's he trying to kid?!" spit Terry. Dave could only shrug.  
Terry saw Amanda fiercely staring at the screen and he looked up at her from his chair. "You can't possibly believe Jeff Tracy is the commander of International Rescue!"  
Time slowed to a crawl as she forgot the cold. Her mind was a chaos of thought. If Terry actually believed that Jeff Tracy controlled International Rescue, Terry could blackmail Jeff or even sell the information to the highest bidder but what could she do about it? As Dave looked up at her expectantly, the gesture gave Amanda a sense of empowerment and an idea. Terry was mad enough not to believe what the facts were telling him. "Good," she thought. "I can convince Terry that Jeff's just playacting, and Terry will naturally browbeat Dave into keeping silent. "I'm sorry, John." she prayed, "it's all I can think of doing."  
Looking directly into Terry's eyes, she shook her head and snorted, "I heard it said that Mr. Tracy had his sons dress up in costumes to look like they were a part of International Rescue for a party once. That's what the scuttlebutt said in the offices last year." Dave snapped his head to look up at her when she said that. Amanda shrugged her shoulders at him. "Terry's right. There's no way in the world Jeff Tracy has that kind of compassion for people like that. I've never heard of a businessman in my life who ever did. Profit's the bottom line always and nothing else." With those words, Terry leaned back with a grin as he stared up at the screen. "That gal's got more smarts than you do," he sneered. "Shall we wait until all his sons are in the office with him and then surprise him?" Dave refused to answer.  
Back on the island Brains remained up in the briefing lounge working steadily at the secondary control console trying to find a weakness in the intruder programming system that had Tracy island's communications locked up and frozen. "Trouble is," Brains thought, "even if I could free up communications, what good would it do?" Every now and then Brains looked up to see Jeff pacing the floor and thinking aloud to himself. "What in the world is Terry up to? Why kidnap Amanda if it isn't money he wants? He knocks Tracy International's communications out of action, attacks John, and kidnaps Amanda---for what?" At that moment, both Brains and Jeff looked up when they heard the gears in the service elevator sigh. It took all Jeff's control not to grab the gears and pull them up on his own strength. At least some of Jeff's worries would be alleviated since everyone would be accounted for including Chris, and Alan was safely up in Thunderbird 5. All he had to worry about now was rescuing Amanda.  
  
Chris and Gordon were the first to step out. During the trip in Thunderbird 2 when she wasn't dozing, she imagined just tearing Jeff Tracy apart for everything that had happened. Instead, she felt the heat of her anger dissipating at the warmth she felt coming from the embrace she witnessed as Jeff pulled Gordon into his arms, giving the red head a long hug as he spoke warmly, "It's good to have you home, son." "I'm glad to be home, Father. I want to introduce you to Chris Gruber who was working for our company."  
Accepting the firm hearty handshake, Chris pulled out the sheet she had hidden in her sweater since she'd left the communications building and handed it to Jeff. "Mr. Tracy, I believe this is what Dave Smith has been looking for. They're a set of access codes, but I just haven't been able to figure out what kind of computer they belong to."  
Jeff studied the yellowed sheet of codes, shook his head, and handed them over to Brains who'd gotten out of his chair to have a look. While Brains studied the sheet, the elevator had gone back down to fetch Scott, Virgil and John. Out of range of the camera, Jeff hurried over to give each son the same hug he'd given to Gordon.  
John winced when Jeff embraced him, Jeff's hand having accidentally found the concussion on his son's head. "Are you all right now, son?" John nodded as his voice grew stronger. "Now that I'm home? Yes, I am, but I want to see that broadcast before I do another thing. I'm upset. I'm ticked off! Amanda's out there somewhere and I should have done something!" Jeff could only rub John's shoulder and say, "No one understands that more than I do, John. We're doing all we can."  
Feeling a bit left out of the celebration, Chris wandered over to Brains who hurried back over to his work station. He tapped into the search engine the three capitalized letters S, O, and the number 3, and hit the enter key. "Do you know what the letters stand for?" Chris asked Brains. "U-unfortunately, yes I do, b-but I w-want to v-verify the information before I tell M-mr. Tracy the b-bad news," "What kind of bad news?" she asked. She watched with him as a picture of an orbiting satellite appeared. Tapping the screen with his fingers, he brought up a military website headed with the words "Space Observatory 3". Brains plugged into the web site's search engine some of the codes on the sheet. Instantly, a flashing red banner screamed, "Information classified! Information classified!" This was followed by the computer shutting itself down. "What in the world just happened?" Chris asked. "It's like the computer exploded electronically." Brains shook his head at her words as he pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. That's precisely what happened.  
Brains rushed over to where Jeff was standing surrounded by all four of his sons talking excitedly. "Mr. Tracy, I-I have some bad news," Jeff sighed and folded his arms bracing himself to hear it. "Chris is right. This is a sheet of access codes," "To what, Brains?" Jeff bored down on his words. Brains took a deep breath and began, "They are codes that would instruct the satellite Space Observatory 3 to fire its lazers from its platform up in space." Chris broke in. "Before the explosion and the fire at the communications building, Dave Smith came in looking for an envelope with initials on the back. Somehow they got into my mail when Amanda brought up the mail basket. I just thought it was for me and opened it. That sheet was in it." Jeff's reaction was one of confusion. "Why in the world would he be trying to get a-hold of the access codes of Space Observatory 3?"  
At that moment, Terry's voice reverberated all over the lounge in answer, startling everyone in the briefing lounge. "I plan on blowing up Tracy Island! That's why!" 


	20. Before Death A Secret

In the installation, Amanda could see Jeff hurrying over to the console to bring down the full size video screen that she could just make out dropping down to the right of the desk. When Jeff moved out of the way of the camera, she was able to see Gordon turning to look at something or someone out of camera range. Her heart pounded in her ears as John walked wearily across the lounge in front of her. "He's all right," she breathed to herself. "He's all right," she repeated louder, moving closer to the control console and the mike. She paid no attention to Dave who jumped out of his chair with his gun drawn. As Dave's hand slammed over her mouth, she managed to scream.  
In the lounge, every muscle John had was begging to crawl into a cool cotton sheeted bed and sleep for a week with the air conditioner dialed up to arctic tundra cold. His back ached, his feet burned, and his conscience was frying him. The worried filled slumber he had on Thunderbird 2 just wasn't enough. He flopped down on the settee and stretched out. "If I have to listen to that maniac," John muttered, "I can do it lying down---"  
  
"JOHN!"  
  
The moment he heard Amanda's voice, John leapt to his feet, moving so quickly that Gordon missed grabbing him and Brains was shoved out of the way. Scott and Virgil instinctively reached out to grab an arm to prevent him from going right through the screen. As they struggled to hold John back, Scott was momentarily surprised at John's strength as he fought to be free. "Let me go!" John yelled. "Amanda!" "John! Stop!" Scott shouted. Ignoring him, John glared at a grinning Dave who held Amanda tightly in his arms with his hand over her mouth. From what he could see, Amanda was a total disaster. She was filthy, pale, scratched, and bruised. Dark shadows edged her eyes. Her right arm was pulled behind her, and the cold dark barrel of a Colt Desert Eagle handgun laid nestled at her temple. Terry rocked back in his chair with his hands behind his head and a wintery smile on his face. "Well, Jeff, we meet for the very last time. I must say I am looking forward to this," Terry teased.  
They all watched as Dave kissed Amanda, which had John livid, but Amanda refused to react. "Good girl," Jeff thought. Amanda knew she was being watched and did not react to Dave's touch, but Jeff wondered what the poor girl was going through. Blowing out an expletive, Jeff shouted. "Terry, let that girl go! All of this is between you and me! The kids don't have to be put through this! Let her go and I promise you we'll meet somewhere---!"  
Terry cut him off sharply, "By the way, it's nice to meet the commander of International Rescue. So, when did you receive your promotion?" This caused Jeff's mouth to drop as Terry continued. "I've captured your communications systems, Jeff. I now control your equipment. I can see and hear everything going on in your office. Nice little fantasy world. Dave thinks you're the real thing, but Amanda and I think he's a total idiot." Jeff witnessed the slow wink from Amanda as their eyes met. Jeff's stomach tightened. "Tell me you're not doing what I think you're doing!" he spoke to himself. "If you die trying to protect International Rescue, I'd never forgive myself. Ever!"  
Deciding for the moment that they wouldn't kill Amanda immediately, Jeff growled out a hard, "Terry! What is it you want?!" Startled, Terry recovered with another cold smile. "You never were one for small talk, were you?" As Jeff prepared to launch another salvo of how he felt about the whole thing, Terry continued. "I noticed that Amanda's friend Chris is there in the room with you. She has something that belongs to me. From your end, Chris is going to transmit the codes on that paper to me where Amanda---" he replied, while slipping his gun out, "is going to transfer them into this computer." Dave pushed Amanda into his seat. "And then what?" asked Jeff. "Then," Terry answered, "Space Observatory 3 will fire its laser into the heart of your little paradise, and ignite that old volcano where the explosion and the lava will destroy it."  
"That's impossible!" Chris responded. Jeff turned to Brains with a questionable look. "I'm afraid it is possible. Space Observatory 3 is actually an old satellite designed during President Reagan's administration as part of a comprehensive weapons program called Star Wars. When such fears of a nuclear attack faded out of the United States' consciousness, Space Observatory 3 became a surveillance option," Brains explained,. "He's bluffing!" said Virgil from behind Scott and John.  
Dave pulled the gun away for a moment, cocked the trigger back, and aimed it at Amanda's head once more. "Do as he says---Now!" Chris went to stand by Jeff who pulled the chair back from his console in apparent defeat. "Brains? Would you hand me that sheet, please?" Jeff asked.  
"I cannot believe you'd do this," John choked at Terry. "I just can't believe any of this." Terry bent his head as if he heard something. "What? You don't believe I can kill?" They all watched as Terry got up out of his seat with his gun firmly in hand. "You don't believe I am capable of killing." he repeated. Taking the edge of his gun, Terry pushed Dave's gun aside. "Let me do this," Terry said quietly. Shrugging, Dave pocketed his gun and stepped off to the side to watch.  
Horrified that his words were about to end Amanda's life, John cried out. "Terry, you do this and there won't be a place on Earth where you can hide!" John made another lunge at the screen. Scott pulled almost every muscle he had to drag his brother back. "John!" he shouted, "Stop!" John yelped again, "No! You can't do this!" Jeff was shouting, too, while Chris buried her face in her hands, unable to watch. "This is all my fault!" she whispered.  
John managed to squirm free of Virgil, but not of Scott. Fearing the worst, Scott used John's momentum to spin him into facing him, and forced John's head onto his shoulder, holding him tightly. John wept. Jeff joined Scott in protecting John from the awful picture. "I know. I know." Jeff whispered. "Isn't there something we can do?" whispered Scott as his shoulder was getting damp. Jeff looked up once and shook his head.  
Amanda closed her eyes. One shot rang out. When she opened them once more, she found herself deafened from the blast of the gun. Confused, she looked around and saw Dave clutching his chest. Something red seeped from between his fingers. "No!" she gasped, "David!" At the same time, Terry grabbed her and swung her around. He looked hard into her eyes and spit out, "Isn't that what you've wanted all this time?"  
Horrified, Amanda pulled herself free and ran to the stricken assassin. "David!" she choked as she ran to his side. "David?!" Staring stupidly at Terry, he slowly slid down the wall until he came to a rest sitting on the floor. Amanda followed him down, noticing a trail of blood against the wall. He tugged at her shirt and whispered as his air ran out, "Lied---about---radiation and---missile." "David, I can't hear you!" she whispered numbly. "David, what are you telling me?!" The light in his eyes faded away, and his hand dropped into his lap. 


	21. Goodbye, Jeff

Dave's body sagged onto the floor while Amanda took deep breaths to keep hold of the bit of sanity she had left. Her ringing ears were already beginning to clear, but her head spun. Grabbing an arm, Terry yanked her onto her feet. Ignoring what was going on in the briefing lounge, he glared at her wild eyed, saying, "Now, sweetheart, it's just you and me, isn't it?" Amanda was forced to look into his eyes. Staring him down with a cool, deadly gaze of her own, she replied. "Yes. It is just you and me. By the way, I just now realized something. Dave was the only person working this computer system. You haven't touched the controls once since I've been conscious. You don't know how to run this system. Do you? With David dead," Amanda said through gritted teeth, "the only person who has even a remote chance of using it is me. Correct?" "What are you getting at?" he spit menacingly at her. "Just this: if I don't put those codes in for you, you'll have to kill me. Right?" "What do you think?" he answered cocking the gun once more. "If I'm dead, Mr. Tracy certainly isn't going to send you the codes. Once your one and only hostage is gone, everyone on the island will be safe and there wouldn't be a thing you could do about it!" Terry could not believe her insane daring. He pulled her up close to himself and kissed her hard on the lips which left her gagging. "So you die. I'll still be free and Jeff Tracy will still die!" Amanda shook her head. "You? Free? Never." Terry's fingers dug into her arms until she bled. "You'll never be free, and you won't ever kill Jeff Tracy. It had to cost you a fortune to set all this up. You're probably out of money now, aren't you? You've got every dime you own wrapped up in this crazy scheme of yours. Your mistake was killing David. When you did that, you gave me the power to end this whole thing because I won't put those codes in for you, no matter what happens!"  
The briefing lounge became deathly quiet. John stared at his father in shock. Jeff stared transfixed by what he had just heard. Twice, Jeff opened his mouth to say something. Twice, he stopped himself. John turned to stare at Gordon, who turned away. No one dared say what they were thinking. John got in front of Jeff's line of vision. "Dad! You can't be thinking of allowing this!" pleaded his son.  
Jeff was thinking of just that. He counted six souls in the lounge. Almost the entire family stood in the room with him along with Brains, while death in the form of an ancient satellite awaited its last orders. If it didn't receive them, it would continue to hang inertly in the sky and Amanda would surely die. Turning toward the secondary console where Brains sat, he pleaded, "Brains, is there any way of breaking our system free?" "No, sir," he answered futilely. Jeff tried again. "Is there anything you can think of doing?" "No,sir," he answered, frustrated by the futility of his efforts. "I can't break through the interference!" Jeff turned his attention numbly back to the screen. "Dear God. Tell me what to do now?" he whispered. "I just don't know what to do..."  
John sensed the indecision in his father and Scott's inability to help. "We just can't let her die like this! I can't sit around and watch this happen!" He'd been through more than enough. "What do you suggest we do, John?!" Scott suddenly exploded out of a sense of failure. John pushed his way past him and searched the desk for a pair of headphones with a microphone attached. "Buy us some time!" As he watched the gun tracking towards Amanda's chest, John stood above Chris who continued to look fearfully at the screen. "Terry! Don't kill her! Let me talk to her privately. I can get her to put the codes in for you! There has to be a headset hanging around there somewhere!" Much to John's relief, Terry reset the hammer, bent down and looked to be digging below the console. When he rose again, he shoved a headset into Amanda's hands. "Sit down!" Terry ordered, "You've got three minutes."  
While Amanda shoved them down over her ears, John walked out onto the deck in the early afternoon sun that surrounded his home. The ocean roared off in the background while a hot wind pulled a curl down on his forehead. The heady humid scent of the tropical garden below wafted about in the breeze. "Amanda, are you receiving me?" "Yes..." she responded weakly. "Okay. Just shut up and listen to me," he began. "I'm not going to do it, John! Nothing you can say to me---" she argued. "I know that! Just listen!" he swore. Rubbing her eyes, she sighed, "I'm a captive audience." John continued, "You believe we're International Rescue, right?" "Yes," she droned, "So?" "We'll find you, but you've got to give us some time. You're the only one who can do that!"  
John walked back into the lounge unaware of the stares around him. He stopped in front of the camera and looked directly into it. "You don't know where I am, John! I don't even know where I am---!" Amanda wailed from fatigue. She wondered if the headset would be taken away suddenly when she revealed what they were talking about. "We'll find a way!" he pleaded, "But you've got to hang on just a little bit longer! Please!" "John," she cried from sheer exhaustion. "I can't do it anymore---!" He had just a few precious seconds left to convince her to live and only one thing came to mind. He took a deep breath, pouring all the feeling he could into four words. "Amanda, I love you!" he said.  
"You what?" she began when Terry slapped her shoulder. "All right. There's no time for statements of undying devotion. Let's get going, Jeff," Terry interrupted them.  
Stretching his hand towards Brains, Jeff accepted the sheet of access codes from him and gave them to Chris. Chris wiped the tears away that she had been crying silently for several minutes, accepting the sheet along with hugs from Jeff. As she scanned the sheet first, she noticed a circle had been drawn around a sequence of ten digits and the word location written above it. For a moment she thought about changing the numbers. This had to be the island's location. "It would be so easy," she thought. "Throw in some new numbers and the beam would miss us." As she touched the screen to prepare it for sending the codes through, she decided against it. What if she sent the beam into a populated area accidentally? An urge to cry welled up inside Chris as she realized that she was about to send the satellite the information to kill herself and everyone on the entire island. How in the world were they going to locate Amanda and stop the satellite at the same time? "It just can't be done!" she thought to herself.  
Looking at the screen, Chris couldn't understand how Amanda could be so cool and calm. How could she watch someone being shot to death right in front of her, have a gun held to her head several times, and listen to John Tracy give her a confession of love while sitting calmly as if she were back at her own desk with a day's pile of work in front of her? How was she doing it?  
Chris didn't have to link the computers. That was already done, thanks to Dave, so all she had to do was start sending the codes through. "I'm all set on my end, Amanda. How about you?" "Ready to receive," Amanda responded robotically. "I can't believe I'm doing this, Chris," Amanda whispered to her through the headset. "I'm so sorry."  
Back at the installation, Terry sighed contentedly. Finally, the end was near. Soon the beam would strike the island, bore down into the hard soil, and continue drilling until it hit the vein of hot lava below. All the hardship and planning would finally come to its climax. Stretching his arms back, Terry grinned at a darkly frowning Jeff. "Tell you what: while the girls are transmitting, why don't you take this time to say good bye to your family. When the girls begin, you'll have 15 minutes or so."  
To Terry, Jeff looked as if he could reach through the screen to strangle him, just as John attempted to do. He watched the powerful man turn and stretch out his arms to gather his sons and associate together into a final huddle, while Chris bent her head and began typing in the codes. 


	22. For The Last Time

Stretching his arms to pull Scott and Brains tight to his body, Jeff realized only now that Tracy Island was not as invulnerable as he once imagined. How in blazes could he have been so stupid as to think that Tracy Island, his family and associates would not be vulnerable to attack? If Tracy Island suffered disaster, it would not be Space Observatory 3's doing, but his own pride and ego. Jeff looked back at Chris who sat quietly at the console watching them and waved her into the circle. "Chris, you belong here, too. Come on, dear,"  
  
As Brains opened his arm to tuck her inbetween them, Jeff sucked in a deep breath to prevent his emotions from running amuck. "All right, everyone: pay attention. International Rescue is now in a catastrophic circumstance. All Thunderbirds will fly in the order I send them. John, you and Brains will crew Thunderbird 3. You're the first to leave. Your mission is to blow that damn satellite to space dust. There's just a chance, if we can stall him long enough, you'll have enough time to destroy it before it destroys Tracy Island---"  
  
"M-Mr. Tracy, there's less than 30% chance we'll be able to do this!" Brains stammered. "I know that, Brains, but it's a chance we have to take." Jeff insisted.   
  
Scott studied John critically. Far into exhaustion, his brother hung heavily on Scott's shoulder. Hoping to spare John more suffering, Scott thought desperately for another idea. "Father, why couldn't we just screw up the codes or pick another set of coordinates?" asked Scott. "If we do that, Amanda's dead for sure!" replied John. "John's right, Scott," Jeff agreed, "Terry's insane and anything can trigger him into killing Amanda. Every move we make will mean living or dying for her." Virgil interrupted him, "Father, he'll be able to see every move we make! Both the entrances to Thunderbird 1 and 2 are within camera range!" Jeff shook his head. "Right now, Amanda's keeping him sold on the idea that we are not International Rescue. He'll just think your leaving is some weird way to escape from here." Scott tried again. "Dad! Let me fly Thunderbird 3! John's too tired for this!" Jeff shook his head. "John's our finest astronaut, Scott. I need my best man for this job. Now, no more discussion. This is it, boys. As I give you clearance, I want you to act like we're about to lose our lives here and you're saying goodbye to me. John? Brains? You're first."   
  
For so long, Scott had been trained in keeping his emotions under strict control. Any deviance from that and lives could be lost, but the situation was now vastly different. Now it was International Rescue that needed rescuing, and his father for all intents and purposes acted as if he was going to go down with the ship. Scott's voice trembled as he spoke. "F-father, we won't have to pretend. After we're gone, what are you going to be doing?" Father and son stared each other down. When Jeff didn't answer, Scott let John go and turned to the man he'd been taking orders from all his life and said for all to hear, "Father, if you don't go, we don't go!"   
  
The lounge became eerily quiet as Jeff took every son's measure. "You're declaring mutiny, huh?" Scott refused to be cowed. "If you want to call it that, fine---!" Jeff tugged Scott back into the huddle. "For your information, I plan on taking Chris to the mainland. Thank God Grandma is with Kyrano and TinTin right now in Malaysia. Does that suit you?" They all looked at him suspiciously, but nodded. "Okay, I'll give you your orders as I send you out."  
  
Gently shrugging off Scott's possessive grip, John hugged his father goodbye. Before he could join Brains on the couch that would take them to Thunderbird 3, Gordon grabbed his arm, drawing him into a muscle-straining bear hug. As soon as Gordon let go, John hurried to Brains' side, and hit the hidden switch that dropped the chair down below the lounge.   
  
As Gordon rejoined the circle, Jeff continued. "Scott, you're next. You're to escort Thunderbird 2 to our emergency landing area and meet at Lady Penelope's. Stay in tri-circuit contact." Jeff grabbed Scott as tightly as he could, remembering voice, sound, smells and touch as he hugged his eldest. "We'll see each other again," Jeff sniffed. "Now get going, boy. The moment you take off, you are in command." Scott accepted deep hugs from Virgil and Gordon before running off to the secret entrance that would send him to Thunderbird 1's gantry for the last time.   
  
"Virgil, you're to take Gordon and Thunderbird 4 with you. Follow Scott to the rendezvous point. Get going, both of you." After receiving his hug, Virgil broke from the circle, making no effort to hide the tears that flowed as he leaned himself on the pilot's shoot for the last time and flipped back into the wall.   
  
Now, all that was left was Gordon, Chris, and Jeff. Chris stepped back to allow father and son time to themselves, feeling a sense of helplessness as they hugged each other for several long moments. "Why wasn't someone doing something about this?!" she thought angrily as they parted once more. Jeff's voice trembled as he spoke, pushing the young man away. "Get going, Gordon, before I change my mind." Gordon nodded, and turned towards Chris. He threw his arms around her in a tight bear hug, whispering in her ear, "I'm so sorry about all of this Chris. Just do absolutely everything Father tells you to do." She memorized the warmth of his mouth on hers as he kissed her, the beat of his heart against her chest, and the smell of his tears on her cheeks. She cried as he pulled himself away to run to the service elevator. Jeff ran to the console to send him down. Watching the Tracys exchanging heartfelt good byes reminded Chris of her own loved ones who had no idea what was happening to her.   
  
Jeff walked out onto the balcony in the light of a red-orange, setting sun to watch Thunderbird 1 soar majestically into the air on powerful roaring atomic engines. As it flew past the balcony of the briefing lounge, Thunderbird 1 dipped its wing toward Jeff in salute. Thunderbird 2 taxied out onto the end of the runway where its launch mechanism tipped it carefully towards the sky. The exhaust ports began pouring huge clouds of smoke as Virgil fired the green bird's engines up and drove into the sky. "Godspeed, Virgil. Gordon. God protect you." Jeff watched as the last Thunderbird circled the island and climbed into the air. "There they go, Lucy," he whispered. "I can't believe we're losing our home to a blasted maniac. Sweetheart, if you can hear me, talk to God up there and convince Him to help us. There's nothing more I can do now." 


	23. Brains' Biggest Gamble

Only when the gleam of sunlight reflecting off of Thunderbird 2's tail fins became just another star amongst the many stars that were peeking out one by one, Jeff turned back into the lounge. When he came in contact with the lounge camera, Terry impatiently ordered, "Come on, Tracy! Let's hustle. Chris, you're going to take those codes and send them through to your buddy here. Amanda, you're going to send them to the satellite which has already been set up to accept them. One word of warning, I'll be standing behind Amanda with a gun to her head the whole time to make sure this is done the way I want it. If anything happens to prevent this, Amanda dies on the spot! I will not hesitate. Do I make myself clear?" asked Terry from the videoscreen. Everyone responded affirmatively. "Good! Let's commence, ladies, and Jeff? No tricks."   
  
Chris slipped the headphones on as Jeff began to pace behind her. "Okay, we have a total of seven strings of codes to put in. How are you feeling?" To Chris, Amanda looked as if she'd weathered out a hurricane, but didn't say so. "I can't concentrate. My leg muscles are killing me! I'm thirsty. Never mind the fact that everything's swimming in front of me, and it's about to take me with it!" she answered. "Hang in there." Chris replied sadly, wishing there was something she could do for her. "Get on with it!" Terry shouted behind her, "And Jeff: stay in front of the camera. I trust you as far as I can throw you." For the first time in what felt like days, Jeff chuckled. "Coming from you, that's a compliment." On the screen, Terry grinned. "I know you're trying to send your boys somewhere safe, Jeff. They won't make it. The explosion that will be caused will be so awesome that it will knock them down from the sky, or swamp them on the ocean from the tidal wave created."   
  
Refusing to be baited, Jeff slid into a slow pacing back and forth across the carpet behind Chris. As he did so, he crossed his arms around himself so that his watch was close to his mouth. To keep himself under control, Jeff set his mind to deduce where Amanda might be. "It couldn't be too far from where she was abducted in Orlando, Florida," he reasoned to himself. "." Jeff sighed to himself. "If I can find out when Gordon left the floor, it might give me an idea of how long it took for Dave to get to Terry. I think he's somewhere not far from Orlando. At least I could give Scott and Virgil something constructive to do instead of running like scared rabbits." Into his telecom, Jeff whispered, "This is International Rescue to Gordon Tracy. Come in, Gordon."   
  
While Jeff waited for Gordon to answer, Brains had a similar thought in mind. Since the missile base's computer had captured the island's communications, the best he could hope for was to get outside the earth's atmosphere where the jammer could not interfere with Thunderbird 3's communications array. Through the array, Brains could link up with the intruding computer system, trace the computer's position, and give Jeff the coordinates of the missile site. First, however, he had to locate Space Observatory 3. Pulling up the global FCC, he first located the registered orbit of the satellite and fed the information into Thunderbird 3's control systems. Next, Brains activated the particle cannon tucked into Thunderbird 3's nose cone from his half of the computer console. "Space Observatory 3 has been located. Orbital position has been fed into the control systems and locked in. ETA: T-minus twenty minutes and counting. Particle cannon is energised and prepared for firing upon arrival," Brains reported to the island and the other ships. "FAB," John wearily intoned, "Engines are at maximum."   
  
The problem Brains decided was that none of the Thunderbirds had the speed capable of making it in time before the satellite fired its primary weapon. Mentally racing through all the scenarios that could be anticipated while trying to find exact movements to change the outcomes so that all were home safe and sound, Brains decided that only one idea had the strongest possibility of actually working: switch the cooridinates from Tracy Island's location to the missile site's. Unfortunately, it would require Amanda's survival skills to be tested beyond what was reasonable. By making the missile site the target, he would be gambling his entire reputation with International Rescue as well as risking John's anger.  
  
Looking over at John who sat next to him with dark eyes of worry and creases of defeat written all over the astronaut's face, Brains swallowed once, deciding to let John in on part of his plan. "There's more we can do." Brains began cautiously. John shook his head over at the engineer, groaning. "Like what?" John moaned dejectedly. "We can tell International Rescue where Amanda is being held," answered Brains as his fingers danced over the keyboards. "Terry's computer system has frozen Thunderbird 5 as well as the island's communication systems, but not Thunderbird 3's!"   
  
Spinning in his chair, John stared at the scientific genius. "You can break into Terry's computer system?!" Brains grinned at John. "I'm tracing it even as we speak." Brains replied, carefully wording his answer. "Yes!" John shouted with a punch in the air. Seeing the pale flushed tones in John's face fill in with color once again from the joy he felt filled Brains with perfect satisfaction, but Brains worried over the unknown factors as the computer flashed the location of the missile site in the right hand corner of the screen. He tapped out a message to Chris that contained the new target code. Once the engineer hit the enter key, both Brains' and Amanda's fates would be sealed. "Thunderbird 3 to International Rescue. Come in, International Rescue."  
  
Meanwhile on the island, Chris finished the first string of Space Observatory 3's access codes and sent it to Amanda. Jeff heard his watch breep as Gordon answered. "Gordon to International Rescue. What's up, Father?" Jeff squelched the need to correct Gordon's communication ettiquette and rushed into his question. "Gordon, do you remember when you left the floor to go dancing?" asked Jeff eagerly. "I think it was after 7pm. Not long after we got back from having dinner. Why?" "Bingo!" thought Jeff. Ignoring Gordon's question, Jeff ordered, "Thunderbirds 1 and 2, this is International Rescue. You are now ordered to make course corrections for Orlando, Florida. Effective immediately."   
  
Through the tri-circuit contact ordered by Jeff, Scott responded smoothly as always. "This is Thunderbird 1 to Base. Have received instructions. Commencing course change." His words were echoed by Virgil in Thunderbird 2. "Thunderbird 2 to Base. Have you discovered where the missile base is located?" "A general direction. I believe Amanda's being held somewhere within an hour's distance from Orlando, Virgil." Jeff answered. "Thunderbird 3: go ahead, Brains." he acknowledged. "I have the exact location of missile site...." Tears of released stress poured from Jeff's eyes. He didn't dare do anything else.   
  
"Pass it along! That's an order!" he choked out. 


	24. We Just Can't Make It!

While Jeff listened to the talkback between the ships his sons piloted and Chris sent the second string of Space Observatory 3's access codes that would instruct the old satellite to fire a burning white hot death into the heart of the island, an instant messenger window popped up on her monitor. One quick glance revealed that Brains had sent it. It read: Chris, replace the old location codes on the sheet with the following ten digits contained. Will change the satellite's target. Brains.   
  
As she began typing the next set of codes, she looked down at the old yellowed sheet to the ten digits that were underlined and the word "location" written right above them. "Location? Change the satellite's target?" she thought to herself. She stared at Brains' message again when suddenly Chris understood what he meant. She pounced on her mouse, copied the new digits and saved them. If Brains was right, all she had to do was slip in the new sequence for the old ones and their lives would be saved. At the same time, she didn't dare tell anyone or Terry might kill Amanda when he realized he couldn't hurt Mr. Tracy anymore. "Amanda? Third string coming your way." she announced, barely able to contain her excitement.  
  
Amanda rested her forehead on her palm. "Amanda, are you all right?" Chris asked her. "Yeah. Just---having a little bit of trouble seeing." Rubbing her eyes and making the soreness worse, Amanda tried rubbing them on her now filthy shirt. Once again, Chris said, "The third set of codes is coming your way," Amanda sighed wearily, "I'll be here." Unaware that the underground building she was being held captive in was about to become ashes and cinders, she leaned back in her chair, stretching out before sending the third string on its way with a tap of the enter key. As she did so, she noticed a key hole built into the console. It was raised higher than the rest of the keys and glowed a sickly neon green. A stainless steel key sat within the lock.   
  
As the third string appeared on the monitor in front of her, Amanda began breathing deeply in order to clear the twisting, shaking images that appeared in front of her eyes. "Oh, what I would be willing to do for just a few hour's sleep and a cup of coffee!" she thought to herself. "I don't even know what time it is!" She looked down at her hands, clenching her aching fingers together to keep them from shaking. The headache she started out with when she first came to had worked its way to the back of her head, making seeing difficult. On the screen in front of her, both Jeff and Chris stared at her worriedly. "Amanda, are you all right?" asked Jeff.   
  
Terry rolled his eyes at Amanda, who sat in front of his ever present gun. "Quit worrying about Amanda, Jeff. Just worry about yourself. By the way, tell John that while the island is being destroyed, I'll be taking care of Amanda." As Amanda hit the enter key for the third time, her vision blurred and then darkened. Jeff watched in alarm as Amanda's hair spilled over the console and she fell face down onto it. "Amanda?!"  
  
Meanwhile, Thunderbird 1 raced along the fringes of the stratosphere where Scott picked up on a tailwind that drove him onward across the Pacific basin. Ship and pilot melded into one, eyes and hands worked the horizontal controls so smoothly that Scott could almost sit back and watch himself as he flew. Every variance of the winds, every pocket of turbulence as it came, every storm he encountered slid behind him with ease as he soared. The skies belonged him now and no one else. "Thunderbird 1 to International Rescue. Have crossed the Pacific Ocean and I am now entering Mexican airspace." Scott radioed in. "Well, that's Scott now. I wonder how Virgil and Gordon are doing," thought Jeff.   
  
Piloting Thunderbird 2, Virgil wished every minute that passed by him that they could have just left the pod with Thunderbird 4 back home. He felt as if the weight of the entire ship was bearing down on him while following Scott's contrails like they were division lines in the sky. Behind him, Gordon fidgited and it was beginning to get on Virgil's nerves. He could hear the chair squeek irratically, Gordon's exasperated breathing, and finally the chair going quiet. A moment later, a hand rested on Virgil's shoulder. The contact should have been comforting, but Gordon's grip was a bit tight. "Gordon, we'll get there," Virgil spoke without taking his attention away from the airspace in front of him. "You hope," Gordon loudly sighed. Ever watchful of the skies ahead, Virgil tried to be encouraging. "Look, Gordon---" he began. "Virg, you just heard Chris say the third string of codes has gone through! We won't make it in time! We can't do it!" Virgil felt the dulling shift in his focus resulting in a slight decrease in speed. Irritated, he spoke sharply, "Gordon! Unless you have something useful or encouraging to say, go sit down and shut up!"   
  
From the cabin's speakers, Jeff's voice caused Virgil to groan inwardly. "This is Base, Thunderbird 2. What's your ETA?" Studying Thunderbird 2's instruments, Virgil sighed as he answered. "Nineteen minutes behind Thunderbird 1, Base." "Tighten up, Virgil. You've got to get every ounce of power out of that ship," "FAB," Virgil responded robotically. The grip on his shoulder tightened and then disappeared. Fearing that he'd pushed Gordon into giving up, Virgil dared to let one hand leave the steering wheel to grab for his brother's retreating hand, gripping it tightly. "Gordon, I know you're frustrated, but I need your help!" he said firmly, "We've got to take this all the way. We've got no choice and I can't do it without you!"   
  
For several moments, only the sound of Thunderbird 2's powerful atomic engines could be heard in the cabin. "Just great!" Virgil mentally kicked himself. "He's upset, I can't get the ship to fly straight and---" That's when Virgil felt his brother's hand turn to clasp his own. "I'm your man," Gordon said encouragingly, "Just do me a favor, would you? I want a crack at that guy!"   
  
With a humorless laugh, Virgil replied, "Take a number, pal! I'm ahead of you!" 


	25. A Secret Revealed

As Virgil inched closer and closer to Scott, Jeff tried to deep breathe away both the guilt and the fear he felt as Terry grabbed Amanda by the shoulder and spun her around to slap her hard in the face. The force knocked her off the chair.  
  
"Terry! Stop! Let me talk to her!" Jeff cried out. "Chris! Headset! Now!"   
  
Chris yanked off her headset and stuck it high in the air where Jeff snatched it. Shoving it down over his ears, Jeff realized that to keep Amanda alive, he'd have to approach her not as commander of International Rescue, but as Jefferson Tracy, head of Tracy International and her boss.   
  
"Amanda!" he called firmly into the microphone. "Amanda?! This is Jeff Tracy! Can you hear me, young lady?"   
  
For a long moment, nothing happened. "Come on, Mandy!" Jeff urged, until she stirred and began to push herself off the floor.   
  
"Amanda, can you hear me?" he barked into the mic. "Yes," she half-whispered, "time for me to go home--"  
  
Still sitting in her seat, Chris muttered, "'Go home'?"   
  
"Listen to me, Amanda! I'm coming over there in 20 minutes and I want those codes in and set up by the time I arrive! Do you understand me?!"  
  
Pushing herself up on her knees, she sent chills down Jeff's spine as she whispered, "I-I don't---think I can." Her words transported a feverish Jeff back to when Alan, his youngest son, once spoke the same words as he struggled to remain standing on the San Miguel Bridge. Jeff had to get tough with Alan to keep him concentrating until Scott, Virgil and Brains could get to them. Now, a similiar scene was being played out once more but this time, the victim struggling to obey was just an ordinary young woman and not a seasoned astronaut.   
  
Meanwhile, Terry was furious at the fact Amanda responded only to Jeff's orders. Shoving his gun into his pocket, he gripped her arms, yanked her back onto her feet and shook her. "You're just fine!" he spat, "You got a job to do! Now finish it!"   
  
Cold, faint with hunger and her body aching from lack of sleep, she just didn't care anymore. Jeff tried to reason with her in a voice both firm and soothing. "Amanda, you could stop right now if you wanted to, but Terry won't be satisfied with your death. He will continue to kill until he finds me."  
  
Facing his captive, Terry found himself reacting to Amanda's helplessness. How long had it been since he held a woman in his arms? Ever since his sentencing and his wife Catherine's death, he'd done nothing but plot and plan Jeff Tracy's demise. Cathy had been unable to withstand the shame of Terry's embezzlement and the attacks from the tabloid press and finally had given in to her misery, committing suicide with his whiskey and a bottle of sleeping pills.  
  
Rubbing his filthy hands up and down her arms, Terry warned Amanda coldly, "Do what he tells you or killing you will be the last thing I do."  
  
The hidden implication of his words bore home. Amanda tore out of his hands in disgust and dropped wearily back down in front of the monitor. No matter which way she looked at things, she was trapped.   
  
"There's nothing I can do," she thought to herself. "International Rescue can't possibly make it in time, Tracy Island's going to be destroyed and I'm left alone with this---animal!" Giving up and giving in to the madness surrounding her seemed so easy now. "How could anyone possibly expect me to go through with all of this?!" she thought as she stared at the keyboard. In the lounge, standing above Chris, Jeff Tracy spoke one more time. "Amanda, think about John. If something were to happen to you, what am I going to tell him?"  
  
Jeff's words woke her to anger. "How dare you?!" she cried, "How dare you bring up his name to me?! What do you know of what I'm going through here? What do you know of suffering and pain and---and---" Amanda stared in anger at Jeff Tracy. For the first time she saw tears dripping unashamedly off the great man's cheeks and she realized that if anyone knew what pain and suffering were all about, Jeff Tracy knew. Defeated, Amanda sat down and nodded her head. "All right," she said, "I'll do it."  
  
The digital clock read 4:34 a.m. on the missile site's control board. "Fourth string coming your way, Amanda." Chris replied, forgetting Amanda couldn't hear her. Amanda tapped the keyboard a fourth time in response when Jeff relayed Chris' words.  
  
"Fourth string away," Amanda said barely above a whisper.  
  
Terry wasn't satisfied. Cocking his gun, he aimed it at Amanda once more. "Get those last codes in! Now! This is taking way too long!"  
  
Thousands of miles above the earth, John several times had to tell himself to concentrate on steering Thunderbird 3. He wanted so badly to break contact with base. Hearing his father's half of the conversation with Amanda was almost too much for John to bear and very nearly distracted him from the most important mission of his life. He told himself over and over again that there was nothing he could do about Amanda's present situation, but it didn't help at all to ease the guilty whispers in his mind. "If I could have done something back when we were all at the hotel, none of this would be happening right now!" he thought wearily.   
  
"J-John! Space Observatory 3 is--uh--now 15 minutes from firing r-range!" Brains yelped. "Weapons on standby!" Suddenly, John was all business as if Brains' announcement came in the knick of time. "I want to know the second we're in firing range, Brains!"  
  
Meanwhile, Jeff placed Chris' headset back on her head as her keys made the sounds of a rapid fire machine gun as she tapped. "Fifth string on its way!"  
  
In a matter of seconds, the fifth string broke into bits of information that sped their way to Space Observatory 3 as Chris sent the sixth string in. "Just one more string now," Chris sighed to herself. "Just one more."   
  
From over the lounge's loudspeaker, Jeff heard Thunderbirds 1 and 2 calling in. His throat went dry as he clenched his hands on the back of Chris' chair.  
  
"Come on, John! Where are you?! Tell me you've blasted that thing out of the sky!" he thought desperately.   
  
"This is Thunderbird 1 reporting. ETA now 20 minutes from danger zone!" Scott snapped.   
  
"Thunderbird 2 is now 22 minutes from Danger Zone!" echoed Virgil. "Final string going in," Chris announced with fingers shivering so badly she had to shake the jitters out of them.   
  
As Chris typed, Jeff noticed immediately that the rhythm had changed. He watched her now as she typed in the last set of codes and then highlighted ten digits in the string. Right-clicking the mouse, she brought up a menu to highlight the word 'paste', clicked on that and a new set of codes appeared.   
  
"What is she doing?!" thought Jeff. "Chris?" Jeff spoke as loudly as he dared.   
  
"It's all right! Brains gave them to me!" she whispered back.  
  
"Amanda, last string away!" Chris replied as she hit the enter key, just as Jeff grabbed her hand.   
  
"Terry! Stop Amanda! Don't enter that code!"   
  
Terry ignored Jeff to watch as Amanda highlighted the string. When she was about to enter the code that would order Space Observatory 3 to fire, he grabbed her wrist and fairly threw her out of the chair.   
  
Jeff tried again, more desperate than ever. "Terry! You don't have to do this! They'll execute you for this!" he cried.   
  
Terry looked into the camera and responded, "In that case, I might as well go for broke!" With that, Terry turned the key which opened up a switch just below the lock. A red button flashed over and over. With the punch of the button, Jeff's image of Terry and Amanda became distorted from severe vibrations that seemed to hit the missile site. "Oh, it can't be!" Jeff breathed.  
  
Amanda screamed as she felt the tremors beneath her feet. "Terry---?!" Jeff called out.   
  
"This is just in case you've called those blue busybodies from International Rescue!" Terry laughed. "Let's see how they like dancing with a Titan missile!" 


	26. A Shot In The Dark

As Scott and Virgil neared the danger zone, a massive rusted steel plate snapped backwards with a loud clank to allow a rusty silver bullet weighing several tons to roar out of its silo enveloped in a cloud of fire and smoke. "What the hell was that?!" Virgil yelped as he fought the turbulence created by the missile's duel exhaust ports.

Behind Virgil, Gordon scrambled for the radar equipment in Thunderbird 2, throwing the fine tuned sensors at the missile as it flew into the air. Immediately, both Gordon and Virgil heard the beep-beep-beep from the computer. "Gordon?" Virgil asked worriedly.

"That's weird. The rocket's flight path is irratic," Gordon remarked. "Computer! Identify object!" he ordered, hoping that he could find some helpful information for Scott and then shook his head in amazement. "I can't believe this!"

"What is it, Gordon?!" Virgil replied, impatiently.

"It's identified as a Titan II missile!" Gordon exclaimed as a red dot appeared over the radar's screen, "And one more thing: That thing's got a live nuclear warhead!"

"The guy's insane!" Virgil exclaimed, dumbfounded at the news. "Scott-!"

"I heard, Virgil! Thanks!" Scott responded, "Thunderbird 1 breaking off rescue and going after Titan!"

From Thunderbird 2's view port, Virgil watched as Thunderbird 1's booster rockets shoved Scott skyward. "What do you think you're doing?!" he yelped, shaking his head while Gordon continued to study the rocket's behavior on the screen.

"I'm gonna take a tail shot at the blasted thing!" Scott radioed back before slipping an oxygen mask on.

As Scott yawed his ship skyward streaking upward past 27,000 ft., his mouth became one dark thin line. He wondered if he'd be able to pull this last stunt off as he chased after a mothballed weapon that was already at 55,000 ft. He'd have to reach Mach 24, roughly 16,000 mph in order to catch up with it and get into position to do anything about it.

"The way it's corkscrewing, it must be suffering from fuel degradation. Its guidance system is constantly correcting the flight path," he thought from observing the rocket's behavior. He felt the temptation to ask Gordon where its flight path would take it, but at any moment the missile could explode so it wouldn't matter where it was going. He had a choice of either using the machine cannon built into Thunderbird 1's nose cone and blow the missile up, releasing poisonous radioactive material to fall onto the Earth below, or use a billiard shot to its exhaust ports to knock it deep into the Atlantic with hopes that it would explode out of harm's way. Neither choice was good, but it was all he had.

Scott ordered the booster rockets for a continuous feed, causing the silver ship to climb faster and faster. "Mach 22!" he read out loud. "Mach 23! Mach 24!"

The G-forces increased along with the speed, crushing Scott deep into his flight seat. As his heart pounded faster and faster a rim of blackness appeared at the edge of his periphery. Sweat pored down his body as the heat increased to such a degree in the cabin that the refrigeration units in the fuselage could no longer keep him cool. His fingers were losing their feeling. Throwing an oxygen mask helped him breathe, but he was still gasping for air as Thunderbird 1 screamed closer to the Titan.

Fighting the darkness that fingered the edges of his tunnel vision, Scott readied the cannon and set the sight. "Concentrate, Tracy!" he told himself. "You get only one shot at this! Only one chance!"

The Titan's exhaust ports appeared in his sight as unconsciousness began to creep further into his mind. Ferociously, he fought it while firing instinctively. As the rocket roared past, bullets shot against and through the rusted exhaust ports, shattering the weakened metal.

Sitting at the onboard computer, Gordon watched in elation as the rocket's nose cone tipped away from Florida and wobbled its way towards the Atlantic. "Scotty! You did it! The missile's turning!"

Gordon watched the blip of the missile sailing towards the east, praying it would drop itself into the ocean before it exploded. At the same time, the blip that was Thunderbird 1 seemed to level off. "This is Thunderbird 2 calling Thunderbird 1! Come in Scotty!" he called out.

As Virgil approached the missile site, Gordon watched Thunderbird 1's trajectory leveling off and then begin a perilous decent downward. "Oh no! Virgil! He's crashing!"

In the briefing lounge on Tracy Island, Jeff groaned at Gordon's frightened announcement, but at the same time, he could see Amanda getting slowly to her feet, looking at the exit while Terry grinned madly back at him. "Come on, Amanda! Run! Get out of there!" he thought to himself.

Since the whole adventure began, Jeff had kept a firm grip on his feelings except when he said goodbye to the boys as they left the island. Now, he vented all his frustrations on the man who'd once been his friend and partner, praying Amanda would see it as an opportunity to escape. "All right, Terry. You've been saying you were going to send the angel of death to my doorstep but all you've done is postulate in front of the camera. As far as I'm concerned, Terry, you're nothing but a bloody bully, a total coward, and an absolute wimp!"

Getting onto her feet once more, Amanda kept one eye on Terry while she kept one eye on the exit.

His chair squeaked underneath him as Terry sat down, grinning madly. "Hate it when you lose, don't you?" he taunted. "You know, I just had a wonderful idea. I'll kill Amanda first and then I'll punch the button,"

"No!" Chris screamed as she ran up to the screen, "You can't! You can't do this! Let her go!"

Jeff caught Chris in a powerful grip to hold her back. He could see Amanda walking out backwards towards the exit while keeping an eye on Terry. "Good girl," he thought. "Keep going, Amanda. Keep going!"

Chris' reactions swelled Terry's sense of final victory against his old enemy. He basked in the glow of Jeff's fighting to contain her fear and anger. "Oh, I want so much more out of you, Jeff. What more can I do to make you drink the bile you made me drink?!" he whispered aloud like a drunk lover.

Seeing Amanda was almost out the door, Jeff roared once more. "Terry, you are mad! You're insane! How could you have thought that you could have run my company?!"

"Your company?!" Terry shrieked. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be sitting on that nice little island, would you?! Now, I'm going to destroy---"

Jeff watched as Amanda slipped out the doorway and slapped the close switch. The door slid downward, clanging against the floor as steel struck steel.

Now Jeff pounced on him like a shark seeking its prey. "She's gone now, Terry!! You've got only two choices! You throw the switch on me or go after Amanda!"

Jeff's words bit hard into his antagonist's ego. Stopping his forward momentum, Terry twisted back. The last shred of humanity dissolved away in the overwhelming madness that now took over Terry's mind. Reaching for the enter button on the computer, Terry slammed his fist down while he hissed, "I'm going to watch you die, Tracy!"

Hanging 522 miles above the earth, a rusted, pockmarked Space Observatory 3 silently hung in the sky above the earth. Half of its identification lights were still working as it rotated on its own axis. As the last string of codes poured themselves into its wireless receiver, the twenty inch disk on its underside shifted for the first time in over 60 years. Brains' coordinates fed into the guidance system, lining it up for its final target while the laser system prepped itself for firing. Concentrated light pushed through a crystal lens and into well preserved gases within the tube of the laser, creating energy so hot that it forced its way from the laser's dish and struck the Earth below.


	27. The Heart Of A Hero

As both Terry and Jeff waited for the final destruction to happen, Chris glared in frustration as Jeff studied the ceiling, instinctively waiting for the end to come. She'd attempted to explain again and again that the beam wasn't going to hit on Tracy Island but Jeff was too wrapped up giving orders and dealing with Terry to listen to her. "What are you doing?!" she suddenly exploded, "That beam isn't going to hit your precious island! I've tried to tell you that and you won't listen to me!"

Jeff whirled to stare at her as if he'd never seen her before. Chris was right, but where would Space Observatory 3 strike next if not Tracy Island?

"Did Brains say where that new target was going to be?" Jeff demanded, grabbing her forearms.

Jeff's intense stare frightened her and for a brief moment she wondered if he was as mad as Terry. "N-No, he didn't! H-he just sent me the codes and t-told me where to put them!"

Jeff straightened, letting her go. He could hear Brains guiding John as they were about to fire upon the satellite. "Where would he target Space Observatory 3 if he had the whole world to choose---from---?" he puzzled over in his mind.

He could see Terry's maddening smile from the view screen, while at the same time he'd became intensely aware of Chris's glower. Both seemed to demand something from him. Still, his agile mind demanded his attention to the most pressing of questions. He didn't dare interrupt Brains and John when they were so close now to destroying the military platform, and did it even matter where it was going to strike next? "Maybe. Maybe not," he pondered, but the mystery wouldn't leave him alone and he felt as if he should know. The answer hung straight in front of his face, yet he just couldn't see it. "Damn it!" Jeff swore to himself. Brains figured out where the missile base was. Surely he could have figured out where to send the beam safely. Everything had been so rushed, though: The heartfelt goodbyes. Getting the ships in the air. Discovering where the missile base was. Keeping Amanda alive. With these rapid succession of events, Jeff concluded that maybe Brains had not, in fact, been able to deduce where the beam would hit. Jeff spoke aloud, " All Brains would have had available were---the coordinates---to---the missile site."

Suddenly, he realized what should have been so obvious as he had been thinking things through. Jeff breathed, "Oh no! He wouldn't! He couldn't!" Pushing aside all the pain he'd endured because of Terry, Jeff tried to warn him of the impending disaster about to take place. "Terry! Listen to me! You've got to get out of there! That beam isn't going to strike me! It's going to hit you---!"

"It's what?!" Chris gasped at him in disbelief. "But Amanda's still in the missile site!" She stared, dumbstruck, up at Jeff. If he was correct about the satellite's new target, that meant that by changing the codes, Chris had just handed her best friend a death sentence.

Meanwhile, Jeff felt his gut wrenching tighter as he tried to save Terry from himself. "My engineer changed the codes and---!"

"Nice try, Jefferson! It won't work!" Terry gloated, "I couldn't shut it down or change the target even if I wanted to---which I don't."

"Terry! For the last time, you've got to get out of there! That old control room should have an escape hatch somewhere---!" he bellowed as Chris grabbed his shirt front and shook him. "For your information, Mr. Tracy, my friend is running around over there all alone, trying to escape right now. She has no idea that she's about to die and it's my fault!" she cried angrily. "I'm the one who changed those codes! What are you trying to save him for?!"

Turning his gaze back to the screen where Terry sat down behind his console as if he were about to enjoy a good horror movie, Jeff answered wistfully, "Because he wasn't always like this,"

From his side of the screen, Terry's smile was beginning to melt down into a nervous frown as Jeff's words awoke a part of his soul still left untouched by his overwhelming need for revenge. Jeff had to be trying to trick him into turning off the satellite, he thought to himself, but the conversations between Jeff and his employee had too much the ring of truth in them. He suddenly whirled in his chair and aimed an angry question toward David. "Why isn't that laser hitting Tracy Island?!"

Back on the island, Chris's words and Terry's madness forced Jeff to abandon trying to reason with his long ago friend. Other people needed him.

"Jeff to Virgil! Heads up! Heads up!" he bellowed again into the mic of his watch.

Above the missile site, Virgil began to settle Thunderbird 2 towards the ground when a blinding tube of light stabbed down from the sky in front of him, just as Jeff's call came through. He veered hard left to guide Thunderbird 2 away, causing the atomic motors to scream in agony. His actions pitched Gordon out of his seat and onto the metal decking. Grunting in pain, Gordon could feel new bruises on his arms, legs and right shoulder from striking the floor. He dragged himself back to his seat while Virgil stared at the tube of pure light energy boring down onto the site. Clods of dirt, metal sparks and red hot shards flew in all directions as Space Observatory's laser burned relentlessly through the now antiquated structure. "I see it, Dad! I see it!" he exclaimed incredulously.

As Virgil confirmed to base that the laser had indeed appeared, Jeff felt his nerves give way to deep-seated anger at everything Terry had done. "By the way, Terry. For your information, I am the creator, financier and commander of International Rescue! My sons are the captains, pilots and astronauts of my organization, of which you have no part! They serve me proudly and well for at this very moment they are targeting your damned satellite to blow it out of the sky!" Jeff roared.

At that moment, smoke smoldered down from the roof as the laser continued to burn its way down towards the control center. Terry looked this way and that in sudden confusion as the room's temperature grew hot. A long tongue of flame stabbed downward from the roof to hit the computer banks behind him. Stunned, Terry dove to the left as one by one the computer banks caught fire and exploded. Landing next to Dave's body, he punched Dave's face while he screamed, "You did this! You did this! I had Jeff Tracy in the palm of my hand and you switched the targets on me!"

Seeing Terry draw out his gun, Jeff pulled Chris's shivering form protectively into his chest as Terry madly emptied a clip into Dave's now disembodied frame.

On the lounge's screen, Jeff watched in horror as a coalescing tube of burning white hot light formed in the middle of the room in the midst of the growing fire. In Jeff's mind, he ran over the basic equipment needed for the firing of the missile. If the fire hit the empty fuel tanks on the base, there could be a ferocious explosion that Amanda wouldn't be able to survive.

Jeff barked once more into his telecom as a terrible vision appeared in his mind. "JOHN! BRAINS! You've got to destroy that satellite NOW!"

Up in Thunderbird 3, John stared ahead as he took in this latest information while Brains took several deep breaths and announced, "Firing range in 25 seconds!" Brains' hands shook, wondering when his secret would be revealed.

"Twenty two seconds to firing range!" Brains exclaimed. "Particle cannons at the ready! Johnny! Look alive!"

John's head spun wildly now. Dials and readouts blended into each other and poured down onto the floor, but his hands remained steady on the firing mechanism. He took several deep breaths that temporarily cleared his vision. The dials and readouts solidified once more. Brains' voice echoed in the background. "Fifteen seconds to firing range. Prepare to fire!"

"Thunderbird 3 ready to fire!" John responded sharply.

Back on the island, Jeff held Chris tightly, praying. "Just a few seconds more. Just a few seconds more!" he breathed over and over. "God, I beg you. Put an end to this! Please!"

Brains' voice filtered down through the radio's speakers, growing louder and more intense with each second read. "Ten seconds to fire! Nine---eight---seven---six---"

The fire grew worse on the screen. Terry threw Dave's body aside to discover a heavy metal doorway opened a few inches. He coughed several times, took a deep breath and crawled inside. The door closed behind him with a bang. As the fire spread to the control center, Jeff could see the picture shatter, flicker, return and then break up once more before going black.

"Five!" Brains shouted now. "Four! Three! Two! One! FIRE!"

In Thunderbird 3, John's hand leaped for the firing mechanism, quickly releasing it. Twin lazer beams shot out of Thunderbird 3's cannons and slashed through space towards Space Observatory 3. Striking the body of the orbiting satellite, the beams burned away the shielding to melt through to the power plant inside. The satellite's laser flickered several times as its internal systems attempted to compensate. Seconds later, the satellite annihilated in a noiseless fiery explosion.

Brains yelped for joy as he observed the pieces of the satellite beginning to fall back to Earth. "John, you did it! The satellite's gone!"

John shook his head, more tired than he had ever felt in his life. Space Observatory 3 was now nothing more than fine metal particles raining down on Earth, burning up in its atmosphere. At the completion of his mission, John lifted his arm weakly. The adrenalin in his system was completely drained, leaving his body limp from pain and exhaustion. Mechanically, he called on his telecom, "Space Observatory 3 is destroyed," he whispered.


	28. Scotty!

Deep in the vastness of space, John wearily fired the retros to slow Thunderbird 3's momentum until it began to drift in space, while John waited for the customary response from International Rescue. As he dropped his head from sheer exhaustion, all he and Brains heard was silence.

"International Rescue! This is Thunderbird 3! Repeat---" coughing from a devilishly dry throat, "---repeat! Space---Observatory 3---is destroyed! Please acknowledge!"

From Thunderbird 2's view port, Virgil could see the pre-dawn skies changing from an inky black to a deep dark blue as the sun rose to just below the horizon while John's voice came over the loudspeaker. The beauty of central Florida's morning put a fine edge on Virgil's temper as he viewed the missile base from his seat, knowing he couldn't enjoy it.

Black smoke rose ominously from an air vent to the far left of the base. Somewhere below Thunderbird 2, Amanda was waiting for International Rescue to find her, while Scott's rocket ship careened out of control above, also needing rescue. Behind Virgil, Gordon called to Scott in vain. Within a few seconds, Virgil would have to force Gordon to break off radio contact so they could go after Amanda. The Mole would be the best bet to reach her in the quickest time.

Studying the thermal imager, Virgil observed the fire in the control room below as a fluctuating roughly white circle representing the hottest spot in the complex. Beyond it, a cooler red dot slowly made its way away from the fire. "That has to be Amanda," Virgil thought to himself. "It better be Amanda. If we go down there and find out it's not and Scott dies, I'll kill Terry with my bare hands!" Virgil snapped into the mic," Thunderbird 2 to base! Come in!" Another column of black smoke rose into the air two feet from the air vent. The fire was spreading.

"This is International Rescue, Thunderbird 3. Good work, John. Reading you strength 5, Thunderbird 2. What's the situation?" responded Jeff in the briefing lounge on the island.

"We've got a fire below ground. Thermal imager sees only one person alive down there," Virgil radioed.

Jeff studied the five monitors that proudly displayed his sons five uniformed images. Out of the five only three were activated. "No, make that four." he thought as suddenly, Alan's monitor flickered with a snowy picture. Hopefully, that meant that the island's communication systems had been freed by the destruction of the control room, but instead of being happy about the satellite's demise and the likely possibility of the communications system returning to Jeff's control once more, he was furious.

On John's monitor, his son's normally bright blue eyes slid closed as he dropped senseless over Thunderbird 3's flight console. In Thunderbird 2, Gordon could be heard crying out to Scott, who was unable to answer his younger brother's frantic hails. Amanda had been out of contact range now for several minutes. Jeff could only hope she was alive and that his sons would be able to pull her out safely. Unfortunately for her, Terry had seemingly escaped the flames of a furious fire that rapidly consumed the missile control center, threatening to spread into the rest of the base. Virgil said there was only one blip on the screen indicating there was only one survivor, but Jeff knew that if the fire was big enough, it would overwhelm any other hot spots. Terry could be dead or alive.

Scott was in the most immediate danger and his situation demanded Jeff pay full attention to him first. "Base to Thunderbird 2! I'll take it from here! You and Gordon get after Amanda! She doesn't have much time."

"FAB," Virgil acknowledged.

Gordon appeared on his monitor, his hair sticking out every which way from being thrown around. "Father! Scott won't answer me! I think he's passed out---!" Gordon exclaimed breathlessly.

"I'll take care of him, Gordon! Once that fire makes it to the empty fuel tanks, the whole base is going to blow like Krakatoa! Now get going! I'll send Scott after you," he promised.

Turning toward Scott's monitor, Jeff willed Scott's face to appear. "International Rescue calling Thunderbird 1! Do you read me?!" he called out waiting for a moment. Scott's fixed blue eyes stared back at Jeff from the picture. Jeff stared back. "Come in, Scotty! I know you can hear me! Answer me, Scott!" demanded Jeff.

At 21,000 feet, Thunderbird 1 rocketed downward out of control while Scott hung over his controls, his safety harness holding him fast into his seat. His father's voice pierced the inner darkness of his mind as the pressure dropped away from his body. "Scotty! This is your father speaking! Answer me, boy! Come on, Scott! Wake up!" Jeff called incessantly from Thunderbird 1's speaker.

As Thunderbird 1 drove itself downward toward the Earth, Scott's chair creaked as he shifted in his seat "Father?" he groaned dreamily, activating the transmitter and establishing contact with home.

"Scott! Are you listening to me?! Amanda is trapped underground in that missile site and a large fire is at this moment racing towards the stockpile of empty fuel tanks! You've got to save her, Scott! You're the only person she can depend on! She'll die if you don't get to her!"

As the rocket plane dove past 15,000 feet, Jeff's words seeped through the murky senselessness Scott endured, igniting a sense of fear and responsibility. Scott willed himself to awaken once more and with the fresh oxygen from his mask helping to clear his mind, he found himself staring at a rapidly falling altimeter. On his view screen, Scott saw the hills and trees of the Florida panhandle growing larger with each passing second. Eyes wide with shock, Scott grabbed the horizontal controls and pulled back. With its atomic engines screaming in protest, Thunderbird 1 pulled itself out of its deadly dive to shoot back up into the sky once more.

"Scott! Are you all right?" Jeff called out to his eldest son's monitor. Glancing down briefly, Jeff saw his knuckles were white with worry.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Scott answered, "Oh that was close. Yes, Father. Got a headache that won't quit but---"

"Thank you, God!," Jeff breathed heavily. "All right, Scott. I'm sorry about the way you're feeling but I want you to get back on course for the missile site."

"FAB, Father. What's the damage to the island? How bad is the base hit?" Scott asked as he adjusted the horizontal controls and turned towards the south again, pitching the plane back up to 23,000 feet. Scott puzzled over the long pause repeating, "Dad? How bad was it? It's all right. You can tell me---"

Jeff took a deep breath and answered. "Tracy Island sustained no damage---at all."

Scott's mouth fell open. "No damage?" he echoed with a chuckle. "You mean to tell me Dave screwed up the targeting?!"

"The satellite's primary weapon never struck the island," Jeff answered, "because the target was changed."

Scott stared at the camera for a minute, his brows furrowed with confusion. "Do you know where it hit? Hopefully, nowhere populated---"

"It hit the missile base right down into Terry's control room!"

While soaring through the skies, Scott gaped at the camera. "Oh no," he groaned. "If Amanda comes out of there alive, it'll be a heck of a miracle!"

"That's our job, Scott, but this is one miracle we absolutely have to pull off. I can't bear the idea that she dies because of Terry,"

As they slipped into their customary discussion on the best way to approach the rescue, Scott said thoughtfully, "Dad, that was an old Titan 2 missile. If I remember correctly from my Air Force Academy days, the Titan 2's launch base is honeycombed with pretty thick blast doors. Perhaps the fire will burn itself out,"

"It's old as the hills, Scott. More than likely, the doors will hold it off for awhile, but it will cause more fires as the heat builds. David couldn't have replaced all the wiring in the base. He'd have to have left some of it in its original state, making it a mix of new wiring and equipment with worn, out-of-date materials."

"The missile was corkscrewing. I suspect it had a mixture of new fuel with broken down old fuel. I half expected it to blow up while I caught up with it---"

"And the minute the fire catches up with the empty fuel tanks, there'll be an explosion they'll be able to see clear down to old Cape Canaveral!"

"Exactly," agreed Scott.

Studying his screens, Scott announced with crisp authority, "Thunderbird 1's ETA now 14 minutes from missile site. Okay, Amanda. Help's on the way. Just hang in there for us!"

Meanwhile, Amanda found herself in a long narrow tunnel plated with old rusted steel, narrow doorways and nowhere to go except straight ahead. Exhilarated from her narrow escape, Amanda ran on the balls of her feet trying to put distance between herself and the control room. Somewhere up above her, she heard a strange buzzing sound. All around her, the lights flickered.

"If David cleaned the path up as he said he did, it should lead me straight to the exit," she thought.

At that moment, she experienced a sharp pain on the bottom of her left foot. Yelping in pain, she tumbled down onto the metal walkway. With hard effort, she pulled herself back up with a groan, examining the tear in her foot. "I'm so not looking forward to the tetanus shot!" Nursing her foot, she looked about the tunnel, noticing the humming had grown much louder and the metal decking below her outstretched legs trembling from the vibrations. As the computer banks blew one after the other in the control room, the structure heaved. Dust, dirt, and broken cement particles began to fall on her. A golf ball sized piece of rough cement socked Amanda in the arm. Fearing the roof was caving in, she got to her feet and continued running.

Another explosion knocked her to her knees as she neared another opening. The smells of burnt plastic mixed with a metallic odor touched her nose as she examined the raw scrapes in her right knee. Lights flashed on and off all around her as the humming grew still louder behind her. Up ahead, she heard something like a massive wall clanging down hard. Sweat poured down her face and neck as the temperature around her grew rapidly.

"Can things just get any harder?!" she cried as she got up once more. Walking as quickly and as carefully as she could, she soon reached the source of the sound. Operating on electricity, a short circuited bulkhead door slid upward with a whoosh and then slammed back down against the metal flooring with a resounding clang that had her covering her ears to protect them. Just beyond the doorway, she spied a rusted and paint flaking exit sign. Looking behind her, she imagined Terry popping out of the shadows to kill her. The door dropped down to the floor again with a hard clang.

"I can't do this, John! I just can't!"Amanda spoke aloud as she leaned against the tunnel wall, utterly exhausted. For one awful moment, she feverishly envisioned her body being caught in the doorway and the bulkhead door slamming down on her back like a guillotine. She snapped her head back the way she came, thinkingshe heard laughter echoing down in the tunnel.

Angrily, she banished the thought from her mind and replaced it with one that had her crossing over safely. Taking deep breaths to clear her mind, she watched the bulkhead door slam down on the floor again and again. Counting the seconds that it took to climb to the top and drop to the floor, she braced herself for the jump. "Okay---one----two----three!"

As Amanda leapt, the lights failed, plunging her into darkness.


	29. A March Into Madness

Before the heavy metal door closed on the escape hatch sealing Terry into the darkness, he found himself standing in a three story rusting metal tube that was wide enough to surround five grown men. An equally rusting steel ladder climbed upward, disappearing into the darkness far above. Determined to escape, Terry set his right foot on the rung in front of him. As he began gingerly climbing the ladder, the rapidly consuming fire searched for fuel and found a natural gas pipeline running throughout the missile base. The flames licked hungrily at the little amount of vapor still trapped in the corroded steel pipes, causing a series of tremendous explosions that followed the pipeline. The power unleashed shattered the escape ladder Terry had begun climbing. Dust, dirt and rusted pieces of steel rained on top of him so thickly that he had no choice but to tumble back the way he came through the control room he'd just tried to escape.

Throwing open the hatchway's door, the maddened man shielded his face as he looked for the exit Amanda had run through earlier, heat slamming into his body as he ran. His clothes smoldered as he tripped over the debris that continued to fall from the ceiling above. As he blocked the flames from his eyes, his booted foot caught on something, sending him crashing into the floor. Gasping, he rolled up onto his knees and came face to face with David's burning body, the sight of which caused him to stop and stare in abject horror. In the throes of his madness, the flames dancing within the empty eye sockets, a growing toothy smile, and smell of burning flesh reanimated his dead partner. Terry scrambled to his feet and ran out of the exit, screaming hoarsely. Running down the hallway, he tripped over a chunk of debris, rolling onto the floor which put out the flames burning through his clothing. The man Jeff Tracy once entrusted with his life as well as that of his sons hacked and coughed a curse. "Count the hours, Jeff. Count the minutes! Because somehow, some way-I'll kill you!"

From the depths of his madness, he could see Amanda's dirt smudged face, her filthy, matted hair, and her wild green eyes filled with fury. "You! Free! Never!" she cried out.

"Leave me alone!" he bellowed.

"You'll never be free and you won't ever kill Jeff Tracy!" she shouted.

"Shut up!" Terry roared at the illusion that followed him as he fled.

"Never!" she screamed back at him, following him as he left.

"I'll kill you!"

"Never!" she shrieked.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, swinging a fist at her illusion, while far up ahead in the center section of the base, the flesh and blood Amanda dove through the short circuiting doorway and into the thick, blanketing darkness, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the one ton block of steel as it struck the bottom of its frame. The door then rose slightly 6 inches before stopping from a lack of power. Gathering the little strength she had left, she pushed herself up on her hands and knees to continue fleeing, only to be knocked back down to the floor as the natural gas lines blew. More dirt and gritty grime dug into her wounds as she laid on the ground, waiting for the quakes to settle down. "H-h-how did it ever come to all this?" choking a whisper to herself as unconsciousness pulled her back down in its cold empty grip. "John? Where are you?"

Meanwhile, the one person who filled Amanda's last conscious thoughts struggled to simply stand and walk. Having gone without sleep for nearly 48 hours, John half hung between the shoulders of a nervous Brains and a very worried Alan, the current commander of Thunderbird 5. "I wanna drink!" announced a prickly blonde bearded John as he was helped through the airlock on Thunderbird 5.

Delighted, at first, in having communications restored again due to the destruction of the missile base's computer systems, Alan was instantly dismayed to hear Brains calling on him for help, but between the two of them, they found a way to link Thunderbird 3's navigation system with Thunderbird 5, providing a way for Alan to navigate the ship by proxy, while Brains piloted.

"Sorry, bro'," quipped Alan, "the wet bar's closed for the duration up here. When we get home, I'll get you a shot of Father's secret stash. In the meantime, Electrolyte Plus is the best I can offer. Tips would be nice, but not necessary, " he joked as they got his exhausted brother to sit down in one of the lounge chairs for a few moments. "Ooof! You're gaining weight, pal!"

Coughing weakly, John responded to Alan's teasing by shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. "You're getting gray!" he shot back.

Seeing how dry John's mouth looked, Alan patted the older man's shoulders sympathetically. "Ooo! That hurt! You look terrible. Do me a favor: Stay here and don't move! I'm going to get you something to drink to fight the dehydration and then we'll help you to bed. Ok?"

"M-m-make mine a S-s-s-scotch on the rocks, thank you," John moaned as he dropped his head into his palms and tried to rub away the pain he felt in his face. "I wanna go home, sleep in my own bed in my own room and punch the lights out of the first guy that tries to wake me up"

Solving the problem of navigation with only one person on board to pilot the spacecraft helped to set Brains' worries aside for a short time until Thunderbird 3 slipped into its berth aboard the satellite, but as soon as fresh oxygen filled the airlock and Alan appeared on the other side of the door, the weight of Brains' crime weighed heavily on him once again.

"John, I'm-I'm sorry, but there's s-s-something I-uh-have to tell you," Brains began. "Something I-I-I have to tell the both of you-I guess."

Having borne the guilt he'd felt since he'd ordered Space Observatory 3 to strike the missile site, Brains couldn't stand it any longer. Logic suggested that it would be better to have John coming after him in his weakened state rather than when the gifted astronaut was fit and in his right mind. The young engineer took a deep breath.

"You know," Alan commented. "I hate it when you start out by saying something like that,"

"Tell us what?" asked John. "And tell me fast because I'm about to pass out!"

"Again...ouch!" remarked Alan dryly, which earned him a slap on the shoulder.

"Alan, go get me a tall glass of ice water," John ordered, his temper growing short.

Hesitating, Alan walked slowly backwards towards the kitchen while Brains took another deep breath. "S-Space O-O-Observatory 3 did not strike T-Tracy Island," Brains began.

"Brains! That's fantastic! How do you know?" John groaned with obvious relief. It meant they had a home to return to and International Rescue would continue operating as always. "I take it you had something to do with it. Where did you choose for the new target?"

Taking a deep breath to calm the jitteriness he felt, Brains replied, "Terry's missile base."

As an appalling silence fell over the lounge from Brains' announcement on Thunderbird 5, the painful knot in Virgil's stomach continued to grow unabated. His eldest brother and the closest friend he had ever known had been forced to attain an unbelievable rate of speed to catch up with the Titan 2 missile which Terry had launched. From his own experience, Virgil knew the incredible G-forces Scott must have endured in order to knock the runaway missile into the Gulf of Mexico. Scott must not have been able to withstand the pressure and passed out. That meant Thunderbird 1 was now in a deadly power dive. Seconds and minutes crawled all over Virgil's body like ants at a picnic as time grew short and Scott hadn't answered any hails. "Come on, Scott!" he pleaded silently to his brother in the depths of his mind while his father tried to wake up the helpless pilot, spiraling toward Earth in Thunderbird 1. "You've got to pull out of that dive!" With that thought, a sense of deja vu hit Virgil solidly. Now why did those words sound so familiar all of a sudden?

In anger and helplessness, Virgil snapped back the lever that caused Thunderbird 2 to slide up its telescoping legs in order to free the pod where The Mole sat waiting. "International Rescue," Virgil announced with an ache in his heart. "Releasing pod...now!" Amanda's time was growing short as well as Scott's. There was nothing Virgil nor Gordon could do about Scott's situation, but they could do something for Amanda. "Gordon, prepare for boarding The Mole."

As Gordon reluctantly stood up, a strong commanding baritone came over the loudspeakers, causing Virgil's eyes to water and Gordon to leap out of his chair to run up behind Virgil. "Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 2! Virgil! Gordon! This is Scott! Can you hear me!"

Virgil switched over to his telecom to answer, while, ever conscious of the mission at hand, he pressed the button that would lower Pod 4's flap. "Scott! Are we ever glad to hear your voice! Gordon was beside himself trying to get you to come to! We thought you were done for. Are you all right?" Virgil asked in a rush.

"Yes, I'm fine. Is Gordon crying?" Scott teased.

"No, he isn't," admitted Virgil, unable to see Gordon wiping his eyes. "I am, though."

With his hand firmly on Virgil's shoulder, Gordon agreed. "What happened, Scott?"

"I'll explain later, Gordon. What's your status?"

Virgil tapped his console to release the flap. "I've released the pod and am now lowering the flap,"

"According to the Doppler, there's no sign of Terry, Scott," Gordon cut in," Gordon cut in, his voice threatening to break under the relief he felt. "The equipment can distinguish three sections to the base. The fire is to the west of the base and is spreading. There's one hot spot that looks to be Amanda at about the center of the base and she's no longer moving. Scott, can you tell us anything more about the site?"

Scott radioed back. "The Titan 2 ICBM is designed pretty simply as far as layout is concerned. To the west is the control center to the rest of the base. At the center of the base is the access hatchway and the underground decontamination rooms are behind it. The third half is the missile silo itself. Sounds to me like Amanda is in the decontamination room or the first floor of the access room. A shame we don't have The Mole. For speed, you could blow a hole at the top of the decontamination room and just rappel down like it was a cave-"

"Scott, we can use The Mole," Virgil interrupted. "I slipped it in with Thunderbird 4 and"

"How the heck...?" Scott wondered aloud. "Right! My ETA's in 9.5 minutes. Get down there and bring Amanda back up. I'll secure Thunderbird 2 while you're doing that, and please, God, let nothing go wrong!"

"FAB, Scott. Come on, Gordon. Let's get going!"

As Virgil and Gordon ran to the service elevator down to Pod 4, a second small hot spot broke away from the larger mass on Thunderbird 2's Doppler system.


	30. Fire In The Hole!

Looking beyond the patio windows of the briefing lounge on Tracy Island, Chris fell into a lull brought on by the need for sleep, and the night winds over the Pacific ocean. The screams of a winged ocean-going scavenger startled her from an exhaustion induced reverie. Turning on her heel, she shuffled backwards away from the moonlit view, to see Jeff leaning back in his command chair where he'd been for hours. His steel blue eyes were closed, as if in prayerful meditation, with his chin resting in between his thumb and index finger as he listened to the talk back going on between Thunderbirds 1 and 2.

"This is Virgil calling Thunderbird 1 and Base. We're in The Mole and are now moving her out of Pod 4."

"FAB, Virgil," Scott acknowledged. "Thunderbird 1's ETA now 3 minutes from danger zone."

"FAB."

To Chris' surprise, Jeff developed a small grin on his lips as he also added his acknowledgment. "OK, boys, I want this rescue by the book and no stopping for a quick one while you're on duty," he teased.

Tired chuckles filtered down through the satellite feed, shocking Chris. "How can you all joke at a time like this!"

Without opening his eyes, Jeff answered her while keeping his mind on the task in front of him. "Chris, the boys have all been under a great deal of pressure and strain. They're all exhausted, worried sick for Amanda's sake. Giving them something to laugh about eases the tensions and lightens the burdens for them. It lets them catch their collective breath for a minute." To the mike, Jeff added. "FAB, Thunderbird 1. Virgil? Gordon? Watch your backs while you're down there. We don't know where Terry is right now."

"I know where I'd like him to be---!" yawned Gordon.

"And you're going to remember there's a lady present. Right?" Jeff broke in firmly, stifling a need to laugh. "We are on tri-circuit contact, you know."

Silence followed Jeff's warning until Chris thought she heard a chuckle in the background followed by a heavily sighed. "FAB, but under protest."

Satisfied to see some of the strain ease from Chris' face, Jeff's own gut clenched tighter. The longer it took the boys to get to Amanda, the slimmer her chances of surviving were becoming. "Thunderbird 1 to Base and The Mole. I am now in visual range of the missile site. ETA now 1 minute."

"FAB," acknowledged Virgil as he guided the 18 ton nuclear powered drilling vehicle. "Getting a fix on Amanda's position right now."

Shifting in his seat, his chair squeaked, causing Chris to look up at Virgil's monitor.

"What's the situation, Virgil?" inquired Jeff.

"Got a fix on her, Base! She must have some kind of fever going on. Her heat signature's high. Taking The Mole down now."

"Thunderbird 1 to Base. Coming in vertically."

As the red and gold limbs of a fiery morning sun lit the quickly extending wings of Thunderbird 1 as Scott prepared to land at Terry's missile site, Brains could see the sparkling multicolored stars littering the ebony expanse showing through the view port of Thunderbird 5 above and beyond John's right shoulder. To Brains, the universe was chaos under control following precise physical laws that kept it in place. Humans, created from the very star stuff he observed beyond their spacecraft, were vastly unpredictable, as John was turning out to be.

Jeff's third son turned out to be almost as much a genius as Brains himself, acting not on impulse but by a sound mind and cool logic. As John accepted the glass of ice water from Alan, who'd just returned from the kitchenette, both International Rescue agents shook their heads and rolled their eyes at Brains' confession. Rubbing the cold, condensing glass against his forehead, John laughed. "And I thought I was whipped."

"Brains, don't joke like that," said Alan who stood by John's side. "This isn't the time."

Gasping from his thirst being quenched at last, John pushed himself up out of his chair, setting the glass on a nearby table. "Hey, Alan, give me a hand would you? I don't think I can make it to---"

"Sure. Hang on a second," Alan agreed sympathetically. "Let me give you a hand here."

"This is going to be harder than I previously predicted," thought Brains, watching in growing dismay as Alan got up underneath John's shoulder to support him with his own back. As his exhausted brother leaned unsteadily, Alan suddenly started laughing. "You know, Johnny, I owe you this. You remember that time we decided to go out to that crazy bar after we rescued that woman and her kids when they got hung up on the Santa Monica Bay Bridge about 3 years back? Ow! That was my foot you stepped on!"

"Sorry, Alan. Oh yeah. How could I forget that? Never seen anybody get as plastered as you did. You passed out on the service elevator and I had to carry you to bed! You started singing those awful love songs---!"

"I-I-I'm not joking, John! I'm p-perfectly serious!" Brains suddenly insisted in a loud, firm voice that had both Alan and John frozen in mid-step. "As soon as we were out of the Earth's atmosphere and out of jamming range, I located Terry's missile base. After preparing Thunderbird 3 for firing, I sent the base's coordinates to Chris and told her in an email where to put the codes to switch Space Observatory 3's target from Tracy Island to the missile site!"

The clinical coolness that Brains put into his explanation caused John to turn around, bringing Alan around with him. They both stared at the unflappable scientist until John managed to find his voice. "You can't mean it, Brains. I just can't believe you'd do something like that!" Shrugging off Alan's grip, John marched over to the scientist until they were nose to nose. "Brains," warned John with a deadly evenness that worried Alan so much that the youngest Tracy skipped over to the two combatants. "Tell me your kidding. Tell me your lying! You can't possibly mean what you're saying!" Ever since John met the Cambridge alumnus, he felt comfortable with himself, having been teased and chided by his brothers about his high IQ and his keen ability to reason. So many times he would learn something new about the physical universe and try to explain what was so fascinating about it at the dinner table, but after a few minutes, Jeff would tune him out while Scott and Virgil would roll their eyes and switch the subject. When Jeff brought Brains home for dinner for the first time, John felt a kinship he'd not felt before. Here was someone who knew how it felt to be different and be able to understand concepts others could not. Brains illuminated the confining, invisible chains wrapped around himself in order to fit in, teaching John how to accept himself as he was, but now, while fires caused by Space Observatory 3's primary weapon raged within the missile base, John seriously wondered if he'd misjudged his best friend. Glaring at the resolute scientist, John lifted his telecom. "This is Thunderbird 5 calling International Rescue! Come in, base!" he snapped angrily as Brains continued to look back at him placidly.

Back on Earth, below the satellite, the confident, clean-shaven image of his third son was instantly replaced by a wild-eyed, stubble-chinned John. His stringy hair and oily skin had Jeff rubbing his own face. Swallowing hard, Jeff answered. "This is Base, John---"

John cut his father off. "Dad! Brains just told me that he'd changed Space Observatory 3's target coordinates from Tracy Island to the missile base! Tell me he's lying! Where did Space Observatory 3 strike!" Through the speakers on board Thunderbird 5, all they heard was the commander give a long weary sigh. "Dad! I have to know!"

"John, calm down! Yes, its the truth. Space Observatory 3's target was changed---" Jeff radioed back.

Whatever else his weary father said, John heard nothing more, snatching fists full of the front panels of Brains' shirt as he shoved the scientist back against the wall in a cold fury. "How could you do it, Brains! Why!"

"John!" Alan exclaimed, shocked to see Brains' clothes ripping under John's rough treatment. Grabbing the beyond exhausted astronaut's arm, Alan tried to drag him off Brains. "Let him go! I don't like what he did anymore than you, but---!"

"That's no excuse for what he did! Amanda's dead! It's a million to one chance she can survive the destruction---!"

"She didn't have a chance anyway, John! " coughed Brains as the strain of his collar, tight around his neck, made it difficult to breathe. "If you'd just think for a minute---!"

"John! Listen to me!" Alan commanded, getting right into John's face, his blue eyes staring straight into John's more azure ones in hopes of breaking John's fixation on the engineer. "She's not dead! We don't give up on someone until we know for sure---!"

"She can't survive that! You had to have known that, Brains!" John shouted just as Scott's voice broke through the speakers. "This is Scott from Thunderbird 1. I'm heading over to Thunderbird 2 to secure the Pod and the ship---"

"John! This is Gordon!"

With a thunderous roar, The Mole's atomic engines drove the nosecone down deep into the Earth's mantle, spitting out dust and dirt behind it. As his older brother guided The Mole deeper, Gordon listened wearily as the conversation came through his telecom. Hearing Brains' admission, the aquanaut groaned. Rarely did John ever lose his cool, but hearing the fight through his telecom and The Mole's speakers, Gordon could only imagine what Alan was struggling to deal with.

"John! Can you hear me!" Gordon shouted louder.

"Yeah! Shut up and let me---!"

"Johnny! Beating Brains' to a pulp isn't going to help anybody here! You're exhausted! You're not thinking straight! This isn't going to help Amanda!"

The silence over his watch urged him on. "Johnny! Let him go! I swear to you we'll get Amanda out alive! We're almost there!" Gordon begged.

Up in the satellite, Brains' glasses tilted crazily on the bridge of his nose while John continued to breath hard, glowering. "You swear it?"

"Yes! C'mon Johnny!" With Gordon's words, John relaxed his grip on the stunned engineer, allowing Alan to pull him off. As he stepped backwards, John felt the world tilting crazily. "A-Alan---" As both Brains and Alan reached for him, John's legs buckled underneath him. John's eyes closed before he hit the floor with a thud.

"Dad! John's out!" Alan called out to the mike.

"FAB," acknowledged Jeff, firing off orders. "Thank God! Get him to the sickroom, quick as you can, Alan. Base calling Virgil in The Mole. What's your ETA?"

"ETA to Amanda's position now 10 minutes, Base."

The field commander grabbed his hover bike from storage in Thunderbird 1 and raced over to Thunderbird 2 where he caught the service elevator up to Virgil's cockpit. His first duty was to secure both Pod 4 as well as Thunderbird 2, which took only 5 minutes to accomplish as soon as he was on board. While he passed by the Doppler radar which Gordon left running, Scott noticed that a second small hot spot had appeared on the screen near the first.

"Scott to Base. I've just now secured Pod 4 and Thunderbird 2."

"FAB, Scott," acknowledged Jeff over the radio system.

"Base, a second hot spot has appeared on Doppler. Looks like Terry's alive after all."

"Doesn't surprise me, Scott."

Continuing to studying the radar, the field commander noticed Terry's signature beginning to advance on Amanda's position, while at the same time the heat was building up to 95 degrees. "Virgil, can you get any more speed out of The Mole?"

"The Mole's engines are maxed out, Scott, but I'll try. Gordon, cut all unnecessary power drains."

"FAB, Virgil," yawned Gordon, rubbing his eyes.

"Base to Thunderbird 2!" Jeff commanded, fearing Scott's words. "What's wrong, Scott?"

"Terry's heat signature is on the move! He's heading right for Amanda's position and the temperature is climbing. If Terry doesn't get her, the heat will. The fire down there is turning the base into an oven!"

Through the tri-circuit, Virgil heard Scott's warnings, but The Mole couldn't go any faster. "Thunderbird 2 and Base from The Mole. We are now five minutes from target."

Below ground, the inferno that was consuming Dave's body now chased after Terry. Searing heat from the roaring flames and the unquenchable pain from falling into the fire earlier, when he had tried to climb up the disintegrated escape tower, drove him onward down the corridor which Amanda had run through several minutes earlier. What felt like an earthquake caused the ground to shudder, knocking him off his feet and into the shredded metal wall that then opened up, swallowing him whole. Several moments passed by as he lay in relative safety, protected from the destruction outside by the thick slabs of crumbling cement and steel. Somewhere in the darkness, he heard a clatter of metal fall to the floor. He ducked instinctively as a short explosion ripped from the area somewhere ahead of him, followed by a blue white flash. "Guns!" he coughed. "Must be!"

The shot had come in roughly perpendicular to his position on the floor, so Terry crawled quickly in the direction of the blast to his right. As the fire raced down the hallway seeking more flammable material, its light reflected off the walls in the hallway, helping him to make his way to a locker which was hanging open. Wiping his pouring sweat out of his eyes, Terry examined the objects more closely to find a small cache of weapons left behind when the missile base had been abandoned. Most of the shelves were empty, save for two strings of egg shaped fragmentation bombs and three .45 caliber service revolvers, including the one that had fallen to the floor, and magazines for the revolvers. Picking up the fallen gun, he unsnapped the cover of the butt. The housing was dusty, rusty, and empty. Next, he pushed the safety down and squeezed the trigger. The hammer dragged for a moment and then snapped forward. A second squeeze caused the hammer to snap forward more cleanly. Time had caused the oil used to protect the gun to thicken. Snatching a magazine, he shoved it into the chamber and snapped the cover down on it, just as another earth tremor shook the tunnel he'd been running through. An unearthly metallic scream about the room had Terry looking above him. The metal roof displayed the impression of the jagged edge of a one ton block of cement bearing down on it. Terry grabbed a string of grenades and ran back out of the room to continue on down the tunnel, the flames just half a block behind him.

As he stumbled along, one thought in Terry's head crowded out all others: "Have to make the exit! Have to make the exit!"


	31. A Justifiable Death

On the surface of Terry's missile base, International Rescue's field commander, Scott Tracy, nursed a growing fury. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm before making a security sweep of the base through Virgil's favorite pair of electronic binoculars. There was a good possibility his father's tormentor, Terry Johnson, could crawl his way to freedom, while Virgil and Gordon, struggled to rescue Amanda down in an inferno straight from hell itself. He started out at the crack in the Earth created by Space Observatory 3's primary laser on the western end of the base and swung the glasses for a hard look at the access hatchway nearby David Smith's stolen chopper, finishing his sweep at the inert radio dish out in the eastern end of the base. "He's insane!" Scott muttered to himself as he noticed 6 the crack in the left side of the dish. "No, he's _**beyond**_ insane!"

It was one thing when Terry insisted on hurting Jeff any way he knew how, and another thing to hurt the whole family in the process, but it had gone to hurting everyone who got in his way. "How many people has he hurt or killed just to get at Dad?!" growled Scott under his breath. "I've been ordered to kill, I've seen men die, but never have I ever _**wanted**_ to see a man die until n---"

From Gordon's Doppler system behind Scott, the seismic alarm began to sound as a tremor passed through Thunderbird 2's bulkheads all the way up to the retired airman's feet. "Oh no!"

Through the binoculars, Scott watched the fracture in the radio dish grew quickly towards its center. Whipping his body around, Scott returned to the western edge of the base, concentrating on where Space Observatory 3 had perforated the ground with its primary laser. Instead of a roughly ten foot diameter hole into the communications center of the base, he saw a fissure widen as the communications control room rapidly caved in on itself. "Oh come ON!" he snapped. With his heart beating in his mouth, Scott shouted into the mic of his telecom. "Virgil! Gordon! The base is collapsing! Repeat...the base is collapsing! You've got to get out of there!"

"FAB, Scott!" Virgil radioed back as he guided the atomic motored digging machine. "Breaching the shell of the decontamination room! Ready to go, Gordon?"

"Yeah!" said Gordon, fighting the tiredness that was weighing heavily on him under the fire retardant jacket and helmet he'd thrown on. He was near the end of his body's reserves. "Base! What do we do if we find Terry?"

One second passed and the Commander did not answer. Virgil swallowed. Another second passed and still no answer. Three seconds passed--- "Dad!" Virgil echoed Gordon more urgently. "How do you want us to han---?"

"If Terry's willing to go with you, bring him up! If he attempts to prevent you from rescuing Amanda," the Commander snapped angrily, "shoot him!"

Down in the tunnel, Terry pounded his fist in anger on the antique electric switch that would have raised the last blast door if there had been power to activate it. Behind him, the fire was nearly upon him. "You can't stop me, Jefferson!" he shouted. With his bleeding hands, Terry caught the bottom of the blast door. Muscles honed from prison life swelled and flexed, until the veins in his neck and arms bulged, but the rusted six thousand pound barrier refused to budge. Frantic, Terry slapped his body, wildly searching for something, anything that would free him. The effort caused the frayed string of fragmentary grenades he'd found earlier to bump off his thigh. Snatching three of the dirty green eggs, he shoved them frantically underneath the bottom of the massive steel door.

The firelight illuminated the damage the bombs created and there was just enough room to scurry underneath on his hands and knees into the decontamination room. "Almost there!" he thought. "Almost there!" Behind him, the fire reached the doorway and stretched its fiery limbs into the debris littered room. Up ahead of him and to the right was the doorway to the access room with its escape ladder. As he made his way to the exit, he heard a cry and instinctively turned towards it. A wild-haired Amanda rose out of the debris, struggling to push herself up on her hands and knees. At the same time, the wall behind her exploded and a nightmarish spinning nosecone thrust its way into the billowing smoke.

The second it cleared enough of an opening, Gordon dove out the hatchway and dropped himself into a hellish fiery world. Sparks spread in front of him and the ground shook beneath his feet. One look at the decontamination room had his heart sinking into despair. "How can she be alive?" he said to himself as he searched the crumbling ruin. Up above, a ceiling plate waved and suddenly dropped, striking the floor with a loud clang. At once there was a long high-pitched scream. "Oh God, there she is!" Gordon shouted as loudly as he could. "AMANDA!!"

Throwing his own equipment on, Virgil hurried after Gordon and joined him in shouting. "**AMANDA**!!!"

**"HELP!!!"**

It was the most wonderful sound Gordon had ever heard. They fought their way through the fiery rubble to where Amanda struggled to push herself up again. Time slowed as they worked together to gather the woman into their arms and rush back to The Mole. As soon took the beleaguered girl was safely inside, Virgil turned to look back into the burning realm, but the smoke and flames now filled the room so he couldn't see.

"Pedal to the metal, Virgil!" Gordon yelped as he nearly threw Amanda onto one of the couches and strapped her down and followed suit.

In the cabin of Thunderbird 2, Scott groaned a sigh of relief when Gordon officially announced the mission successful with delirious excitement. "Scott! We found her! She's alive!"

Before he could respond to Gordon's news, Jeff barked an order, devoid of any joy. "Scott! Get over to Thunderbird 1 and prepare to lift off. Go!" Setting his binoculars down, Scott complied with his father's orders and hopped off to the elevator as Terry appeared at the mouth of the missile base's hatchway and crawled onto the dew-covered Earth. His fingers rubbed the wild grasses he laid in and fainted with relief. It was a short rest, though. The shaking ground soon had him on his feet again. As he stood, a huge, smooth, green ship filled his eyes. Passing up his only opportunity for escape in David's chopper, Terry approached Thunderbird 2 with awe. While incarcerated, Terry remembered how everyone from his fellow inmates to the warden of the prison had ideas about who funded and ran International Rescue. Rumor had it that one man set out to discover exactly who that was and sell the information to the highest bidder. No one knew whether he was successful or not or if the story was even true.

Jeff's words echoed all around him as Thunderbird 2 dwarfed him as he drew closer. "'I am the creator, financier and commander of International Rescue---'"

Was it possible Jeff was already planning this organization so many years ago? How could he have done it and kept it all secret, while they together built Tracy Industries from the ground up?

"'My sons are the captains, pilots and astronauts of my organization, of which you have no part!'"

His best friend, Jeff Tracy, had seen the future and might even have offered Terry a part in the organization, but Terry gambled all the unseen possibilities for a chance at big money. It still wasn't fair. "I have nothing to lose, Jefferson!," Terry cried out to the morning sky only to hear his own voice trail off in a whisper, "And you have---everything."

"'**My** sons---'" Jeff words of pride echoed all around him, taunting him cruelly. "'**M**y sons---'"

As the elevator dropped Scott towards the ground, the field commander frowned. Unaware of his father harboring the same feelings back at base, Scott refused to celebrate until Thunderbird 2 was in the air and heading for Orlando's best hospital.

Jeff's first of his five precious sons felt the elevator come to a smooth stop, but when the door opened, Scott gasped, numb with shock at the living breathing nightmare that stood in front of him.


End file.
